The Long Road Home
by HansenWV
Summary: Taking place before, during, and after Inquisition. It's been years since Mahariel left everything behind to find a cure for the Calling she had started to hear. After years of uncertainty, Leliana finally knows she's still out there. Now, later still, they might finally be reunited when she arrives at Skyhold. Hopefully for good this time.
1. The Calling

**This will probably be a few chapters long. I just had something I really wanted to get off my chest after playing Inqusition. :P**

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><p><strong>9:36 Dragon<strong>

Darkness. Corruption. Everywhere she looked, there was nothing but thick, impenetrable blackness.

It had always slithered about in the corners of her mind, like someone standing in her peripherals each time she shut her eyes, waiting - sometimes silently, sometimes whispering in her ear in a language she didn't understand. She had learned to accept it, to push the voices and the pulsing darkness away as it throbbed inside her head. At first it had been difficult, but feasible. Now the encroaching darkness seemed constant. It snaked down her face and into her eyes, blinding her, suffocating her; no matter how much she struggled against it, it seemed more and more in vain. It was something that clambered out of her very bones and dug into her skin. It had always been there, but only now did it become violent, tearing her apart from the inside out.

The Blight.

She wanted to scream, but instead, she listened. There were whispers. There were always whispers when she dreamed. But now they almost seemed to be in tune to...something. Like the inaudible, hushed words she had always heard were a silent symphony all along. She no longer wanted to struggle. She wanted to listen. She wanted to _hear it. _

The song.

It was faint. Very faint. Like the muffled sound that manages to reach you from a tavern two blocks away. She stopped struggling. She stopped breathing. Anything, to just hear it clearly...

_No, no, no..._

She had to struggle. She remembered the melody. She had heard its haunting, mesmerizing chorus before. The Archdemon. The whole time she had been on the tower, fighting for her life...her mind had been engaged in a similar battle. To shut this out. The very thing she felt herself slowly drawn towards now.

She had to do it again.

She screamed. As loudly as she could. But it made no sound. She struggled, as violently as she could. But it made no difference.

_Just...one more...listen to it..._

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><p>Aerya Mahariel awoke with a start.<p>

She could feel the sweat trickling down her forehead and back, drenching the bed beneath her. She felt cold - bone chillingly cold, and her breathing was hoarse. Her bone-dry throat made her feel like she hadn't had a drop of water in days...despite the fact there was a half-empty waterskin on the table beside her. She felt like she'd been screaming for hours - despite the fact that Leliana was still fast asleep beside her, her breathing even and her expression calm.

She blinked rapidly, trying to expel the darkness that still crept up around the corner of her vision. She wanted to tear at her skin, rip the Blight out of it until her nails reached muscle and bone. She wanted to be free of the feeling that lingered inside of her, creeping up from the pit of her stomach and pulsing in her head like a constant, mind-numbing headache.

She had always had dreams. At times, they had been similarly violent to the one she had woken from now. They had _never_ stayed with her after she awoke, however. Even during the Blight. She was always told Warden's dreams were particularly...vivid on two occasions; Blights, and when they acted as an omen to The Calling.

The Calling.

No, not now. Not yet. It's too soon.

_"You have thirty years to live, give or take."_ Alistair had told her. He seemed so nonchalant when he'd said it, like it was nothing but a minor inconvenience, a small loophole in the hypothetical Warden job description. But she remembered the sudden, terrible fear that had washed over her in that moment. The stories of the 'Great Hero of Ferelden' often told of a woman of impossible strength and valour, unshakable in her resolve and unflinching in duty. Maybe it was true. She'd never think twice about throwing herself in front of an arrow in place of someone she loved, or giving her life for a cause. She was able, she was willing - but the truth of it all was that death _terrified_ her. She'd leaped on the opportunity to avoid death to the Archdemon, because she was scared. The uncertainty. The blackness.

And now, it seemed upon her.

Without a word, she slowly pushed herself up, gently setting Leliana's arms that were draped over her aside. The redhead shifted slightly, moaning softly in her sleep, but never woke. The elf couldn't help but stare at her lover for a moment, a rising sadness growing in the pit of her stomach. She seemed peaceful; her mouth was opened ever so slightly as she silently breathed, her eyelashes fluttering as she dreamed. Of what, she couldn't guess. She assumed it was something more pleasant than her own night terrors.

Aerya sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest and burying her head between them as she steadied her breathing. She loved Leliana more than life itself. Wrapped in her arms, she felt like nothing else in the world mattered, that no one else mattered. She had been the first human to truly make her feel not only welcome in this strange, foreign world, but wanted. Something the Dalish elf had never expected when she so coldly brushed her away on their first meeting in Lothering. She had been desperate to feel validated on her judgement of the_ shemlen. _Her whole life, especially after hearing of her mother and father, she'd been so desperate to paint everyone outside her own people with the same brush, that she'd entered the human world kicking and screaming, bashing her head against anyone and anything she could...but Leliana made her realize she was being an idiot. At first, she'd felt regret. Later, she'd felt love. _  
><em>

She used to keep the dreams at bay. Wrapped in her arms, the Darskpawn seemed like a distant thing, even when they were in the thick of the Blight. Now, it seemed nothing could. It was a decisive barrier in their relationship that Aerya had realized early on; she was a Grey Warden. Leliana was not. She could provide comfort and a moment of respite when the dreams hit, when the weight started to feel like it was too much to bear...but nothing more. She couldn't sympathize. She couldn't understand how she felt, with impending oblivion looming over you and growing closer with each passing night. She didn't know if the thought of it haunted Leliana as much as it haunted her. Perhaps it did. Perhaps she'd just wanted to live in the now instead of staying focused on the future. Unlike Aerya, she could do that.

She remembered those years following the Blight. No matter what hardships they faced, she felt like they'd be together forever. The Calling had been far from her mind, for a while - all that had mattered to her was Leliana and the days ahead of them. They were simpler times, but she missed them every day.

Then it felt like everything had changed overnight.

Leliana was Sister Nightingale now. Aerya was there when that first came to be, in Valence, a small Orlesian village on the coast of the Waking Sea. It had just been a suggestion then, a potential path that Leliana and her had discussed extensively. Then, not a year later, Dorothea ascended to the Sunburst Throne - and next thing Aerya knew her greatest friend and her love was the Divine's Left Hand. They still saw each other often - as often as they could, anyway. Aerya would sometimes arrive in Val Royeaux unannounced, attempting to sneak into Leliana's chambers in the Grand Cathedral and sweep her off her feet (as best as she could manage with her height, that is.) without the bard noticing. She never succeeded, but it never failed to put a smile on the redhead's face.

A smile which became increasingly strained as time went on, she noticed.

There was something different about her as Sister Nightingale. She still had the same giggle, the same smile, the same mannerisms...but Aerya could never help but notice the small tinge of stress. Sadness, sometimes. She looked like somebody with a threatening amount of weight on their mind, which was always on the verge of crushing it. She'd asked about it more than once, implored her to tell her the thoughts and concerns that bore down on her, but each time she was brushed aside. Leliana would never have done that to her before. Each time it happened, she'd been hurt - and she could see Leliana was too, deep down. There was some kind of wall between them that had _never_ been there in the years before she'd become the Divine's Left Hand.

She thought she'd tell her all the things that troubled her one day, when she was ready. Ease both of their minds. But now it seemed as if it might be too late. Before too long Aerya was going to be marching off to an early death. Six years later. Not thirty, six.

She silently slid out of bed, reaching for the white nightgown piled on the ground and slipping it on, her movements noticeably stiff as she staggered forward towards the washbasin and mirror. She let out a long sigh as she slapped the cold water to her face, her murky vision clearing ever so slightly. She was almost afraid to see what would be looking back at her in the mirror as she lowered her soaking hands.

The elf let out an audible sigh of relief when she saw it was not, in fact, a hideous tainted creature. A sleep deprived one, perhaps. But not tainted - not entirely, anyway. Her messy, brownish blonde hair was bedraggled and lashed out at all angles after her tossing and turning, save for the soaking bangs that clung to her face and dangled over her deep, emerald eyes. Her olive-hued skin was paler than usual, in sharp contrast to the pronounced vallaslin tattoos that snaked around her forehead, cheeks, nose and chin - the symbol of Ghilan'nain, the Halla Mother. The bags around her eyes made her appear to have not managed a wink of sleep in weeks, but other than that, she looked fine.

That was until she peeled down the strap on her left shoulder to scratch an itch, and saw it. Black skin, blotched and tainted. It was small enough she would have easily overlooked it in the dark, but her heart skipped a beat as her fingers ran over it. Three spots, small, but rough. They didn't feel like _her_ skin as she ran her fingers over them - they felt wrong, unnatural. They felt almost like scabs, raw to the touch but numb and unfeeling as she brushed over them. Her heavy breathing began again as she dug her fingernails into them, feeling the blood drawing up and coursing down her fingernails. She wanted them gone. She wanted to rip them out and never see them again. She dug, ripped, ignoring her watering eyes as she felt the skin peel. She closed her eyes, aggressively tearing her fingers into the blighted skin.

But the pain was too much. Her chest racking, it was only then she realized she was crying. Hot, messy tears streamed down her face and dripped into the washbasin, mixing with the clean, cool water and the black, unnatural blood drifting in it like smoke. She'd cried a lot as of late, more than before - she used to all the time, by herself, when the emotions she insisted on bottling up became too much to bear. She had when she was a child. She had when Tamlen died. She had when she'd left her clan. She had when Tamlen came back, and was gone again.

She never told her, but she had whenever Leliana and her had parted ways. Sometimes they didn't see eachother for months at a time. Each time, it hit her harder.

Now, she did again, when she felt like her whole world was crashing down on her head. What had seemed like a distant anomaly rather than a distinct reality had come early, crashing down on her swifter and sharper than any Darkspawn blade. She stifled her tears, pushing against the counter for support with her good arm as she slid her now completely loose nightgown back onto her shoulders, ignoring the dark blood now seeping into it from her shoulder. Wiping a few stray tears from her cheeks as they persisted, she gathered herself and stood straight. She took one last look at herself in the circular mirror, grimacing at her now blood-stained left shoulder, before tearing her gaze away and stumbling to the balcony overlooking Val Royeaux. It was barely morning yet, the morning chill creeping in alongside the first trickle of light through the opened window in Leliana's estate. It was a fairly decadent place; small, but distinctly 'Leliana.' Fancy Orlesian finery, various bits of decor ranging from Chantry related to Orlesian to Ferelden, and a constant fragrance Aerya couldn't quite place. Vanilla, perhaps. Rosey.

_Andraste's Grace. _

She sighed as she overlooked the city corner, only now beginning to shift from the night-life to the market day. She'd been to the bustling Orlesian capital more than a few times now, but had never quite grown accustomed to it. She'd felt overwhelmed when she entered Denerim; the crowds, the various clashing scents and odors, the shouting from every direction...it had made her head spin. But Val Royeaux made Denerim look like a quaint, secluded village. There were times when Leliana had to drag the elf outside into the fuss and flurry of the city. She'd lived among humans for so long now...but she still longed for quiet seclusion often.

Deep in her thoughts, tears still streaming down her face, she hardly heard Leliana begin to toss and turn behind her. She was evidently half-awake now, pulling the blankets up to cover herself as she became distinctly aware of the morning cold on her naked body. Aerya's eyes lingered on her for a second, more tears beginning to stream down her face before she shut her eyes tight and turned away.

_What am I going to say? _

It wasn't long before the shifting sounds seized, and she knew Leliana was awake. Her eyes were still closed as she suppressed more tears, but she knew what she was likely doing. Gently running her hands down where the elf usually lay, expecting to feel her soft body shifting in response to push up against her. Leliana would smile, give her a kiss on the back of her head and pull her close, breathing in her almost minty scent. Sometimes they'd fall asleep again. Sometimes they'd just lay there for a while, not wanting to get up quite yet. It was usually the same. It was always peaceful.

When she wasn't there, the shifting began again. She could hear her rise gently, slipping on her own nightgown, and begin to stretch as she rose to her feet. Gentle footfalls as her bare feet hit the hard, cold floor. Aerya was completely silent as Leliana meandered to the washbasin herself - but she knew what would give her away. The redhead let out a small but clear gasp as she undoubtedly saw the black, tainted blood in the washbasin. She hadn't even thought of that - she didn't want to think about what might have happened if she'd used it.

"Aerya!?" She called out, before turning and finding her on the balcony, slightly hunched over and using the railing for support as her tears started again.

The redhead swiftly closed the distance between them, stopping in the door-frame. "...love?" She said cautiously, her voice thick with concern. "Talk to me, _please._"

The elf didn't respond, but Leliana could no doubt hear the sobs she was fighting back now. Frowning, Leliana stepped forward, putting her hand on her shoulder only to gasp yet again when she felt the sticky, wet blood building up on it. "What-what happened? Are you-?"

Aerya collapsed, Leliana lunging forward to support her before she hit the ground. The smaller woman didn't even bother to fight the sobs anymore, they just poured out freely, undoubtedly echoing across the still-silent city. For a solid four minutes she buried herself in Leliana's breast, hot tears soaking into the thin fabric as she convulsed. She held her close, confused, but swiftly coming to the point of tears herself.

When it finally subsided, she gently pushed away from the elf, still holding onto her tightly, and her blue eyes met her green.

"Aerya, please. What happened?"

There was a moment's hesitation, before Aerya stepped back, sniffling and wiping a tear from her eye. With a deep sigh, she peeled her nightgown down slowly, feeling goosebumps shoot up as the now naked flesh met the outside air, but otherwise seemed eerily nonchalant. She let it slide off and pool at her feet, closing her eyes before she could see the bard's expression as she caught full sight of her. She felt unclean. Blighted. Vile. She wanted to coat herself in heavy armour and not make Leliana look at her like this, but she kept her eyes closed and breathed deeply as her lover took in the blighted blemishes on her nude form.

"That's...Aerya, what is-" The bard seemed to struggle with her words. The elf opened her eyes to see tears streaming down the redhead's own face at well.

"The Blight." Aerya said flatly. Her words seemed to cut clean through the silent atmosphere. She half-expected Leliana to back away, to see her as some dangerous tainted creature and run...but she should have known her better. Of course she wouldn't. Without a word the bard pulled her close, not caring that the blood still trickling from her shoulder began to seep into her own gown, and held her there - refusing to let go. They both teetered there for a while, the elf feeling the taller woman's tears drenching the top of her head. Before long, her own tears began to stream out again.

"I'm sorry." She whispered into Leliana's chest. She wasn't sure she heard her.

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><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>


	2. Uncertainty

**This one got a bit longer than I anticipated. I actually didn't plan on covering the specifics of what the Warden is doing at first, but I figured I might as well think that up for context. This is still focusing on the Warden and Leliana, the 'after Inquisition' portion most definitely starting next chapter...**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy. Should definitely be wrapped up before December is out.**

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><p><strong>5 years later, 9:41 Dragon<strong>

"-surely not _all_ the Wardens started hearing the Calling, and didn't suspect anything. There must be more out there. Leliana, have you found anything? Leliana, are you awake?"

Leliana blinked out of her daydream at Josephine's question, looking around the room with a briefly bewildered expression on her face, as if she forgot where she was. Her daze was short-lived, however, as she straightened herself and cleared her throat. "No. Hawke's contact appears to be the only one."

Josephine glanced at her for a moment, a flash of concern on her face. The Antivan ambassador had a tendency to notice her moods._ Damn you Josie,_ Leliana thought. _It's nothing._

Commander Cullen noticed nothing, however, as he growled in frustration. He shook his head, a scowl etched across his face. "Damnit Wardens, how could they all be so idiotic? Blood magic and demons _create_ problems, they don't solve them!"

"They were scared, Commander." Leliana sighed, putting her head in her hands. "People aren't themselves when they're scared, even Wardens."

A brief image of Aerya, collapsing into her arms and crying out in anguish, flashed through her mind yet again.

Cullen grunted, clearly still furious, but didn't bother to continue arguing. He flicked one of the many pieces off the war table, located near Crestwood. "I pray the Inquisitor sorts this mess out, then." He muttered, glowering. "For all our sakes."

"As do I." Leliana agreed solemnly, still not looking up. Cullen stormed past her and filed out the door, leaving a bitter silence in the war room - one that was broken only by the sounds of scribbling from Josephine. She glanced over at Leliana every now and again as the spymaster stood hunched, leaning on the war table with her elbows and burying her face in her palms. After nearly two minutes of silence, the Antivan ambassador finally spoke.

"Leliana. I know this mood of yours. Something is troubling you. When you can't hide it, I assume it's..._very_ troubling."

The spymaster didn't look up. "It's nothing." She replied, her voice muffled by her hands.

"So you were looking like you were going to cry at any moment that whole session over...nothing at all? The Warden situation is unfortunate, but you usually have better composure than this." Josephine put her notes down, snuffing out the candle as she sat down on the table across from her. Leliana only grunted in response.

"I need sleep."

Josephine sighed, shaking her head in disapproval. "Leliana, why don't you talk to me anymore? About anything?"

Leliana actually raised her head this time, looking up at her friend gravely. The younger woman probably knew her better than anyone else in Skyhold. She'd contacted her not only for her diplomatic skill, but for that reason as well - an anchor of sorts, a friend when she needed it. She had a tendency to see the best in her, even when she could not. In that, she reminded her of Aerya at times.

After a moment's hesitation, she sighed. "Take a guess. Take one good guess at what's_ troubling_ me."

The ambassador's eyes flicked around the room for a split second in uncertainty, before her expression changed to one of pure concern. "Your...the Hero of Ferelden."

Leliana lowered her gaze again.

"The two of you were...close, I know. I met her once, remember? When she attended that party at Duke de Sable's estate with you? I...should have known, I'm...sorry."

Leliana didn't respond, but the silence was a response unto itself. Despite her initial reluctance, now she just wanted Josephine to say something. _Anything,_ to put her mind at ease. For the first time in her life, however, she looked up and saw Josephine looking at a loss for words.

"I..." She stammered, twirling her quill in her hands. "She's...been gone for some time now, hasn't she?"

Leliana nodded.

"No one has seen her since she vanished?"

She shook her head.

"Then...maybe she's alright. Maybe she's somewhere else, maybe -"

"She's..." Leliana began, before cutting herself off, reconsidering. "She's...she's just gone."

Josephine stopped stammering, instead just looking at the floor with a sigh. "I'm...sorry, Leliana. I know you loved her dearly."

She bit back the tears she felt welling up. She couldn't do that anymore. Not here, not anywhere. "I'm sorry too."

After a moment, the ambassador picked up her things, and slowly filed out of the room. She stopped next to the still-solemn looking spymaster briefly, pausing to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, before she left without a word.

As soon as Leliana was sure Josephine was gone, she stopped holding back the tears.

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><p>A whole hour later, Leliana made her way up to her quarters. It was getting dark now, the last remnants of the sun dipping under the mountains as the day came to an end. Dusk always left the castle eerily empty and quiet - save the few occasional roars of laughter from the tavern across the courtyard. She almost considered joining them for a moment, to take her mind off things...but the thought left her mind quickly. There was nothing for her to laugh about. There was no bright side to focus on to <em>any<em> of this that she could see. Those men and women in the tavern went there to forget; a luxury she didn't have. Not any longer. Instead, she simply ignored the chatter and laughter as she moved on gloomily, making her way across the courtyard and up the stairs to the tower.

Despite having been settled into Skyhold for over a month now, she'd rarely ever used her quarters. More often than not she'd just dozed off at her desk in the rookery, getting snapped back to reality when one of her ravens began to peck at her. She usually preferred it that way. The few times she had settled down in her chambers for a proper sleep, she'd just found herself tossing and turning for hours on end until it was morning - or, more often, she found herself staring at the roof, deep in thought. Exhausting herself with work until she expired seemed to be the only way she could sleep anymore. Because of this, her quarters at the top of the tower were extremely austere. A tiny cot in the corner, her old bow hung up above it. A small chair was pushed up into the other corner, a small collection of unread books stacked up on top of it. A small array of shoes were shoved under the cot, about the only expressive items in the room. The dust clinging to them made it obvious they hadn't been worn for quite some time.

She lowered her hood as she entered, absentmindedly pushing off her boots as she did so, and closed the door behind her. In a matter of moments she'd slipped off her light leather she usually wore as well, piling them all up on the floor and collapsing onto her cot. The mountain chill still made its way into her room, and her under-armor was hardly enough to keep the cold out - but this time she found herself not noticing. Her thoughts were already swimming; they had been the second she'd entered the room, as if the bleak decor and musty smell triggered them.

Sighing, she reached for her chest, pulling out the amulet that dangled there. She pulled it from her neck delicately, careful to not damage it even slightly. Not that she'd needed to worry, the amulet was made of the strongest ironbark. The Dalish used the material for most of their finest weapons; it was stronger than the toughest steel, but lighter than any of them. The enchantment on its surface made it glow faintly purple to the touch, flashing more brilliantly from time to time and lighting up the halla carvings that snaked up its surface with a glamorous sheen. At its center, was an image of Ghilan'nain, the Dalish goddess which Aerya had often called the 'Mother of all Halla.' It was the most valuable thing her Dalish lover owned; it had belonged to her father, the only real memento of him she had ever found.

And now, it was Leliana's last real memento of Aerya.

She had others, of course. Gifts she had given her, small trinkets that served as memories of happier times. There was the ring around her finger; a simple, lightly jeweled band, with the symbol of the Maker emblazoned on its crest. Aerya had - and was likely still wearing at this moment if all was well- a similar one. They were also a memento of Dorothea as well, in a way. The former revered mother had given them to both of them that day at the Valence Chantry - the most official recognition of her and Aerya's bond the two of them would ever be able to receive. Not in the eyes of Chantry law, but in the eyes of the Maker, perhaps. Leliana had been both surprised and touched when the Dalish elf had accepted the offer, despite her reservations on the idea. She'd never been one for ceremony or recognition, and while she'd become much more open-minded to it, she wasn't an Andrastian. Privately, they'd done the Dalish equivalent ceremony as well...which was slightly more _intimate_ than the Chantry one, as she fondly recalled.

However, the carved Halla pendant was the most individually meaningful thing the elven woman had owned. It was still the thing that reminded her most of her.

Thus...she thumbed the carvings across it as she closed her eyes. Despite the sadness that still lingered within her, which was perhaps accentuated by the amulet in her hand...Leliana drifted to sleep faster than she'd expected.

_She's still out there,_ was her final thought. _She has to be._

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><p><strong>Years earlier, 9:37 Dragon<strong>

Aerya Mahariel found herself absent-mindedly thumbing the jeweled ring around her gloved finger, as the wind and rain battered against the leather coat wrapped around her. Her horse, a grey-white mare she'd named Marethari, (as the glare she often gave her reminded her of the old Keeper) was beginning to complain as she kept her head lowered against the winds. Aerya leaned in close, affectionately stroking the mare's neck and humming gently against her. "Just a little further..." she whispered, though her voice was likely lost in the howling winds being swept off the ocean.

She'd been to the Storm Coast before; her clan had camped up in the hills here on occasion. Never for long - humans passed through the area on their way to Highever often, and the lapping waves and seemingly endless water made more than a few of her clanmates, herself included, a little woozy. She'd been merely a girl then, and she distinctly remembered Tamlen and Fenarel daring her to take a drink from the sea, despite the fact she'd barely wanted to go near it at the time. Not wanting to seem cowardly she'd taken a long gulp - almost vomiting afterwards when she tasted the bitter, salty water go down her throat and burn her mouth for hours. She'd been fuming then, as her friends laughed. Now, however, the memory brought some semblance of a bittersweet smirk to her face. Distracted her from the water, too.

Her horse plodded up the rocky steps leading away from the sea, struggling to keep her footing on the slippery stone. It had been a rough couple of days navigating the coast during the stormy season. It had been ages since she'd traveled alone, without any companions to switch watches with at night or to help keep everything organized. In her forgetfulness she'd left her things out in the rain one night, emerging from her tent the next morning to find what wasn't scattered to the winds hopelessly drenched. She'd lost her journal and most of her provisions that day, and ended up spending the rest of the morning hunting. Something which the years had _not_ taken away her knack at, she was pleased to find out.

In truth, however, she was more distracted than anything else. Thankfully the haunting song chiming in her head hadn't become much clearer - though struggling against the desire to listen to it made nights even harder, in retrospect. The Blight hadn't progressed on her body much more than it had when it first emerged several months ago, either; the dark, tainted blotches on her shoulder seemed to be mostly contained, with only a few more spreading down her arm. It wasn't much, but she still couldn't stand to look at it, not taking her longer shirt off even when she went to sleep.

However it wasn't the Blight's chilling melody or her slowly deteriorating body that was bothering her. It was Leliana.

_She cried softly to herself as she prepared the horse, though her beet-red cheeks made it clear she'd done much more of that earlier. Three days had passed since that morning. Three days, three final days. Leliana had insisted on going with her. She was willing to drop everything just for a few more stolen days. Aerya had adamantly refused. "Live," she had said, tears in her eyes. "Please."_

_But it hadn't been enough. She'd insisted. Despite her telling her no...she'd insisted. Giving in, she'd turned...and spent one last night. One final night with the woman she loved. She woke up early afterwards, planting one last kiss on her sleeping lover's cheek, and leaving without a word. The note on the pillow, held in place by her father's halla pendant, was all that she left behind. She'd struggled to scribble the words down, her written common tongue still notoriously messy as it was - something Leliana had teased her about. However, she put more time and care into her last few words than she ever had before._

**_'Leliana,_**

**_I'm sorry it had to be like this. Be upset with me if you must, but I couldn't let you go with me. You're not a Warden, I am. My duty is to serve and then die. Yours is not. Please, don't throw it away like that. I know it hurts. Creators, I do. But you once told me that it's up to the storyteller to decide when the story ends. Your's doesn't have to because mine ended too soon._**

**_Stay strong. You weren't fooling me when you say nothing is wrong._**

**_Ma emma lath, ma vhenan._**

**_I love you,_**

**_Aer'_**

_And with that, she silently left out the door. _

She closed her eyes at the memory, fighting back the familiar choking feeling that welled up in her throat. Forget killing the Archdemon, or all the hopeless battles...leaving had been the hardest thing she'd ever done. She'd torn out of Val Royeaux as fast as she could on horse-back, making it all the way to the Frostbacks in a matter of weeks before she'd stopped. She'd been so worked up - the shock and fear of her Calling bearing down on her, and the sadness of her departure...that she hadn't even stopped and pondered alternatives.

Avernus. It had been years since she'd spoken to the old Warden mage. She hadn't wished to. He was...disturbing, an example of what the Blight can do to a person. But also a testament to what can be done _against_ the taint. Despite his corrupted and withered exterior, he'd prevented the corruption from taking him. His methods were barbaric; she'd stopped them and allowed him to work on more ethical terms without a second thought all those years ago...but now, she needed him again. Perhaps some Wardens would roll over and accept their fate, but not her. So she'd changed destinations, and ridden all the way to Soldier's Peak.

The old man had been surprised to see her again. "I said I'd summon for you when I have results, in time." He'd said, seeming slightly annoyed at her presence in his secluded laboratory. She'd requisitioned him things from Vigil's Keep every now and again, but she hadn't stepped foot in the place since during the Blight.

"I'm out of time." Aerya had responded bluntly. The old man had peered at her through narrowed eyes, evidently reaching out with his weathered Warden senses...and without a word, he'd understood.

"I see."

He had nothing to tell her that day, not yet. But with the new set of helping hands, he'd assured her that results would come...swiftly. She wasn't sure she'd trusted that statement; no one sane would after seeing what he did to his last 'helping hands,' but she'd agreed to meet him in a cabin on the Storm Coast a month from then. With that time, she'd gone back to Vigil's Keep. She wanted to tell everyone of what she was doing, where she was going. Nobody seemed shocked to see her, so Leliana obviously hadn't said anything about her leaving for the Calling yet...but last second, she decided not to tell anyone. She'd thought about telling just Nathaniel, her trusted friend would keep her secret...but he'd probably want to come with her, just like Leliana had. She wasn't going to risk it.

The only 'person' she would have considered bringing with her was her faithful old mabari hound. However back in her flurry of emotions, thinking she was marching off to her death, she'd left him with Leliana. The grizzled old dog had a few years left in him - even if he was a warhound, bred for battle and expected to die young, she'd rather her long-time faithful companion keep those years, and Leliana was the only person she knew he'd stay with. He clung to her as if she was a second master, referring to her in mabari-speak as Aerya's 'mate,' much to the amusement of both of them. She knew he'd be fine with her.

But instead, she ambled up the mountain path with only her horse for company. If Avernus was not to be trusted...then it was her and her alone.

The rickety wooden shack soon became visible, precariously placed right at the cliff's ledge. The holes in the roof and the vegetation growing over it made it abundantly clear this place had been abandoned for ages now. It was quiet, too - if one shut out the waves, wind and wildlife, there wasn't a single sound coming from the miserable hovel. The silence served only to increase Aerya's unease even further. Narrowing her eyes, she stopped her horse and swiftly but silently dismounted. Marethari whinnied and stamped nervously, picking up on the elven woman's tension, but she was quickly silenced by a quick whistle noise from Aerya.

Without a sound, she crouched down low, reaching under the long, blue, griffon-emblazoned coat and drawing her dagger from her belt. She stalked forward quickly and gracefully until she reached the door, slowly easing it open as the hinges screeched.

"I see you." Avernus' voice called through the door. "You can stop creeping about."

Gritting her teeth and grimacing in frustration, the elf pushed the door all the way and stepped inside. The old mage hadn't even looked up when he'd said it - his nose was buried in a thick tome, as something foul-smelling brewed beside him. The red mist drifting from it made it all too clear what it pertained to.

"As promised," Avernus began, beckoning to the tome and the concoction. "I believe I have bore fruit. Or, I soon shall."

Aerya didn't sheathe her dagger, still suspicious. "Why did we need to do this out here?"

"I had some things I needed. Darkspawn tunnels are in the area, if I need them. Plus, it's out of the way. If something goes wrong, nobody needs to know out here - and nobody should know what we're doing."

Aerya narrowed her eyes. "Right. How reassuring."

"You're right to be suspicious, yes. But this fascinates me as much as it _frightens_ you." The old mage stroked his chin thoughtfully. "The taint, striking you down after such little time. Only six years. Most Wardens at least reach twenty years, perhaps. More than thirty if they're lucky."

Aerya lowered her dagger slightly, but still gripped it. "Do you know why this is coming now?"

"I've always wondered if Wardens who were around during a Blight die younger than usual. So few live through them to know. Contact with the Archdemon can drive one insane - and you killed one, and survived. You've struck down into the heart of their nests, killed their broodmothers...you've had more contact with Darkspawn than most Wardens that exist _between_ Blights get in a lifetime."

He rose from his chair, peering at his concoction. "And from what I hear...you were tainted even before you became a Warden. That mirror you encountered pounded the taint into your bones, using who knows what kind of elven magic. Who knows what else it could have done to you."

"How do you know that?" She asked suspiciously.

"Digging." The mage responded cryptically, readying a chalice. Aerya's stomach began to churn as she considered what was next. Avernus saw where her eyes lingered, and snorted. "This? This will just hold the Blight at bay. Keep you alive for your _real_ goal. Not permanently, mind you. But perhaps you'll live long enough to cure your Calling like you wish to."

"And do you know how I'd do that?" She asked, her eyes not leaving the foul-smelling liquid.

"There was a Warden who once had all traces of the Calling removed from her, so I've heard." Avernus began. "How, I don't know. Magic, presumably originating from the Architect that you slew."

"Shit." She sighed. "I shouldn't have done that?"

"No matter. I believe I know where he got it from. The west. Far, far to the west. Places that have never known darkspawn or Blights, or Archdemons. You can learn much about the nature of something in a place where it simply doesn't exist, surprisingly. Men have not ventured there, but the elves did. Long ago. I believe what you seek...may be related."

"That's..." Aerya muttered, shaking her head. "That's more than a little bit vague, you know? I'm no mage. I don't know anything about this."

"Oh, I have more to go on than that. Now, drink up." He beckoned the chalice towards her. She glanced at it, hesitating, before looking back up at Avernus and gingerly taking it from him.

She'd need to tell Leliana after this, she thought, as she stared down at the murky black liquid. There was no way she was going to venture off into the uncharted west without seeing her one more time, and perhaps putting her mind at ease. Perhaps she could give her hope.

That was, of course, assuming she survived this.

"I should tell you now," Avernus said, a foreboding tone to his voice. "No one should hear of our work here. No one. Let them think you dead or gone. The world knowing your goals will only interfere."

Aerya nodded slowly, and took a deep breath.

"I'm already a dead woman walking, I suppose."

With that, she lifted the chalice to her mouth, and drank.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>


	3. A Glimmer of Hope

**Big thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/favourited/etc. Been writing this to get all my headcanons off my chest after Inquisition, as I said before, so I'm very glad it's to the enjoyment of you all.**

**Merry Christmas/happy Hanukkah/etc. etc./have a good day everyone. :)**

* * *

><p><strong>9:41 Dragon<strong>

"So...there was nothing, then? No sign of her?"

Cullen shifted uncomfortably at Leliana's question, rapping his fingers against the hilt of his sheathed sword. He was still covered in dirt and grime from the long trek him and the army had just returned from, and he looked positively exhausted. He probably would have stumbled up to the ramparts and collapsed in his quarters by now, but Leliana had quickly intercepted him the moment she'd heard word of their return from Adamant. She needed to know. Word had arrived beforehand; basic reports, casualties...but no word of her greatest concern, deep down.

"I...no, I don't believe so. I'm not sure I'd know if there was." Cullen replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You've met her." Leliana snapped.

He grimaced. "Yes. In times I'd rather forget."

Leliana sighed, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes and shaking her head.

"She's not a mage." Cullen said firmly. "She would still have free will. Do you _honestly_ believe she'd be with them?"

She paused, considering. Aerya couldn't be controlled like the mage Wardens had, no - but the Warden warriors were acting out of fear of their false Calling. Thinking themselves doomed, some had been willing to do anything to escape that fate. However, Aerya had already been hearing her Calling - and even if she hadn't, there was no way she would have gone along with Clarel. Leliana had known that long before she'd asked, but she had to regardless. She needed to know.

"No," she finally conceded, shaking her head. "There's no way she'd _ever_ stand by and watch the things they did."

"Then believe that." Cullen grunted. "You know her better than anyone else here."

With that, he turned, and marched off in the other direction. She could hear the chatter and hassle beginning to swell up as more men began to arrive through the gates, most of them looking similarly exhausted as their Commander had.

"And Leliana..." Cullen turned back as he ascended the stairs to the upper courtyard, a look of legitimate concern on his face. "I'm sorry. It...must be difficult, not knowing."

Leliana nodded solemnly as the gruff ex-Templar continued on his way.

For a while, she simply stood in the middle of the lower courtyard, deep in thought. Soldiers were still filing in at regular intervals, some hauling wounded in. The groaning as the stretchers shifted and the occasional cries of agony as their wounds were tended always gave the courtyard a very uneasy atmosphere, and thus Leliana rarely found herself down here. They'd likely been put in their current state all the way back at Adamant. It must have been a difficult time getting them all the way here - but Leliana distinctly remembered that sometimes you just had to press on, regardless of wounds. She recalled the time she'd taken an arrow straight through the leg during the Blight, followed by another - one second she'd been lining up a shot from the shadows, the next a searing agony had shot up her calf, starting as a piercing pin-prick and ending as if someone had set her leg on fire. She'd woken up hours later to find the multiple arrow wounds tended, and Aerya fast asleep across from her, evidently having waited there for hours. The next morning, it was business as usual, despite the leg. They'd been slowed by Aerya constantly fussing over her, but they'd continued.

She couldn't help but smirk slightly at the memory of it. They hadn't even been together at that point; it had only been a month or two since they'd met, and Aerya had still been, for the most part, rather bitter and cold in her demeanor. She'd improved - perhaps growing more comfortable with her travelling companions, and Leliana could tell early on that the wall she was throwing up was deliberate...but that marked the first time that wall had cracked. Leliana had been rather attracted to the elven woman from the start, the moment she saw her walk into Dane's Refuge in Lothering. Something about the way she carried herself, the slight air of mystery behind her eyes of deep emerald, and the tattoos...she was quite unlike any woman she had ever met. Pretty, even through the wear and tear a life in the wilds had given her, but certainly not in the 'Orlesian' sense of the word. There was a beauty to her that the grit added to, rather than took away from. It was only then, fussing over her with constant concern on her face as she hobbled with the bandaged leg, however, that she saw the person underneath those wild eyes for who she _truly_ was. Not a bitter, cynical woman with contempt for the world she was in, but a good person with great sorrow behind her, struggling to keep her head above the tide in this alien world she was thrust into so suddenly, and now told she had to save.

She soon realized the spymaster standing in the middle of a field of wounded with a nostalgic expression across her face was likely drawing stares, so with a nod to one of the surgeons, she collected herself and made her way up the steps and towards the tavern. The place was even louder than usual, likely filled to the brim with exhausted soldiers recently returned and in the mood to drink themselves silly. She supposed she couldn't blame them. She herself hadn't stepped foot in a tavern in ages - but the nostalgic sensation rising up from her gut gave her a hankering for _something_ to drink. She'd never been much of a drinker, even in her wilder days as a bard in Orlais - but she couldn't deny it often helped. Until it didn't, that is.

She stepped into the 'Herald's Rest' silently, lowering her hood as she did so. Despite entering without a sound, heads still turned - some of the men looked shocked and quieted down upon seeing her. They'd likely never encountered her in a casual setting before, and she knew she intimidated some people. She didn't _always_ want to, but her reputation had a tendency to precede her. She waved them off, and they continued, albeit cautiously, in their revelry.

"Nightingale." The dwarf behind the counter, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed by her arrival. Most tavern keeps Leliana had met tended to be ridiculously chatty, but the dwarf was the complete opposite.

"Just wine, if you will. Stronger than usual." Leliana said, leaning against the counter. The dwarf grunted, reaching under the table and procuring a large, opaque bottle, a silk ribbon tied around the nozzle.

"Don't ask where it's from." He muttered, gingerly pouring it into a tankard. "I only give it to people who look like they need it."

The spymaster nodded, smirking slightly and taking it from him. The tavern was almost over-capacity, and there weren't very many places left to sit, but she silently made her way over to an empty table in the corner. For a while, she just sipped at her wine; sometimes tuning in to the conversations of those around her, and sometimes drifting in and out of her own thoughts.

* * *

><p><em>Aerya ran a finger down Leliana's bare chest with a smirk. She leaned in and grazed her lips over her sternum as she trailed down, eventually taking a moment to plant an affectionate kiss on her navel, before shifting and looking up at her. They were curled up in their tent, their bare bodies wrapped up in various animal furs for warmth. The light from the campfire leaked through the tent and cast an orange, heavily shadowed light through the small tent's interior. The flickering light being cast into the small space made the elf's green eyes seem to glow on occasions, as the light dimmed. Elven eyes tended to do that, she noticed. They were almost cat-like at times. <em>

_"What will you do, when this is all over?" Aerya asked, propping herself up on her elbow and looking down at her lover's blue eyes. _

_Leliana giggled. "Odd question to ask out of nowhere like that."_

_The young Dalish woman smiled, not taking her eyes off of her. "I'm curious."_

_Leliana reached a hand back, brushing a lock of her now-disheveled hair out of her eyes. "I haven't given it a lot of thought. What will I do..."_

_Aerya continued to dance her fingers across the bard's chest, as she pondered the question. _

_"We have traveled far and wide." Leliana finally said, smiling. "Does it need to end?" _

_The elf planted a kiss on her chest again. "What about you and me?"_

_She smiled, reaching forward and brushing a strand of hair out of the elf's eyes. "I would hate to be apart from you. You are the first thing I see in the morning, the last I see at night - I don't want that to change." _

_Smiling, Aerya shifted again, crawling forward until their faces nearly met. _

_"I love you, and would follow you to the ends of the earth." Aerya breathed, resting her forehead on hers and closing her eyes._

_"Ooooh," Leliana cooed. "How dramatic. I'm going to hold you to your word, I mean it."_

_And with that, she pulled her in for a long kiss._

* * *

><p>Leliana took another sip of her wine plaintively, snapping back to reality. It was a strange day when thinking back to a few stolen moments occurring during a <em>Blight<em> made them seem like more innocent times. She supposed they both were then, in a way - more innocent. They all were. Aerya had said she'd follow her to the ends of the earth, and in that moment, Leliana had believed that could be true. Just like the tales she had often regaled, they could be together forever. But now here they were. Leliana sitting alone in a tavern, sipping wine and reflecting - with Aerya who-knows-where in some far flung place likely on the other _side_ of the earth, for all she knew. Wynne had warned them of this, once. That death and duty may part them. She hadn't believed her then, but looking back, it was almost alarming how true the old woman's words were. In a way, both death _and_ duty had parted them.

That was all assuming she was even alive.

Leliana hadn't been entirely truthful, when she spoke of the missing Warden to others. Most believed she'd simply vanished without a trace. There was even a song about it she had heard on occasion, _'The Lost Warden,' _she believed it was called. She was thankful the minstrel here didn't know it, she'd likely have to leave. It was a mournful melody that told of the great Hero of Ferelden, vanquisher of the Archdemon and heroine of the Blight, vanishing to the winds on her way to her usual visit to Denerim - leaving the nation bewildered at the loss of its hero, with her fate unknown even to her 'Nightingale love.' The first bit _was_ true. She was expected in Denerim for her usual visit to Alistair, and when she hadn't arrived there was hysteria. She hadn't spoken to anyone when she'd believed Aerya had left for her Calling...she wasn't ready to; and thus, to most, the Hero of Ferelden had simply vanished without a trace. Some compared it to the disappearance of King Maric - and like that, many even blamed Orlais, predictably. Search parties were dispatched, eventually reaching her - she was the last person she was seen with, the one who knew her best, and her well-known lover...but she'd told them nothing. Not because she didn't wish to, but because she couldn't.

She remembered the evening as if it were yesterday. She'd been in her home at Val Royeaux, drowsy and buried in letters, nearly four months after Aerya had departed for her Calling...when she'd heard it. Hooves. Frantic footsteps bursting up the stairs. She'd suspiciously drawn a dagger as the cloaked figure entered the room, expecting assassins or thieves...until she'd seen who it was. The figure, fairly short and slim, lowered their hood...and it had been Aerya. Drenched with rain, looking like she hadn't slept in weeks and had just waded through a swamp to get here - but it was her. Alive.

And just like that, her shattered world had repaired itself, and then been promptly flipped upside-down.

She'd explained everything to her. Her meeting with Avernus. Her plan, her destination. She intended to cure the Calling. To free herself from its clutches forever. She explained what she sought may be far, far to the west - and she didn't know how long she'd be gone. But she'd promised. She'd linked her hands with hers, holding them tightly, and promised, tears in her eyes, that she would be back. Her quest was for Leliana as much as it was for herself. She would have gone with her - and perhaps Aerya may have allowed it this time - but the situation between mages and Templars was just reaching its peak back then. Justinia would need her. It pained her, but Aerya had understood. She'd made her promise not to tell anyone where she was, explained that this was something she had to do alone, and didn't want anyone following her and possibly getting hurt on the way. She had agreed.

And then, just like that, she had been gone again. It had almost seemed like a dream.

When Justinia wanted Aerya to lead her Inquisition, she'd looked the other way. She'd gone along with Cassandra as she looked, fruitlessly. She remembered the days, where Cassandra got so frustrated at the lack of leads that she'd gone into fits of anger, breaking anything within arm's reach - but Leliana had acted like she was simply gone. She'd lied.

Thinking back, she was glad she did. If she'd told her and they'd found her...she'd likely be dead. Just one more corpse to add to the hundreds caused by the Conclave explosion. She'd be gone, just like Justinia. Things would likely be very different than they were now. _She'd_ likely be very different than she was now.

Josephine's familiar voice quickly pulled her out of her thoughts again.

"Maker's breath, Leliana! I've been looking all over for you!"

Leliana looked up at her, shrugging slightly. "I...needed a break. Sit." She gestured to the empty chair across from her. The Antivan woman seemed to relax a bit, and settled down.

"I...suppose I need a break too. I've been responding to letters from relatives of Wardens and our soldiers alike. There's been a messenger bird coming in every thirty seconds, I swear it."

Leliana smirked. "If _you're_ overwhelmed, I'll take your word for it."

Josephine sighed gravely, running her hands through her hair. "I...suppose everyone lost something at Adamant."

Leliana nodded, seeming distant. "I suppose they did."

There was a silence between them for a while; the constant rabble of the tavern quickly overwhelming their comparatively quiet exchange. She heard a loud crash across the room, followed by uproarious applause and laughter, which she recognized as coming from the Iron Bull and Sera. Up to their usual antics already, she assumed.

After a moment, she set her tankard down on the table, and slid it to Josephine. "Drink?"

Her friend raised an eyebrow. "What is it? It doesn't look like your usual wine..."

Leliana grinned slightly. "I have no idea."

Josephine looked at the drink suspiciously, glancing between it and Leliana for several seconds, before gingerly taking it and throwing it back. Leliana burst out into a fit of giggles when she saw Josephine spit and choke as the absurdly bitter taste reached her.

"Maker's breath!" Josephine coughed. "How can you stand that?"

Leliana leaned back in her chair, still fighting to hold down her snickering. "Not the strongest thing I've had," she said, after regaining some semblance of composure. "I tried dwarven ale once. Woke up a week later in Jader wearing nothing but a towel."

Josephine began to laugh too, despite the bitter aftertaste she was evidently still struggling with. "And here I thought you did badly with that 'exotic ale' from the Anderfels at Duke de Sable's banquet. The one that supposedly tasted of despair."

Leliana smirked, still fighting back her incessant giggles. "Oh, that wasn't even the worst thing there."

"What, the Golden Scythe? The one that supposedly _absorbs_ sunlight and _burns_ exposed flesh?" Josephine recalled, in stitches now. "Aerya was the only one with the gall to try that."

The spymaster smirked even wider. "I had to hold her outside in the bushes for hours, puking her guts out. She never wanted anything to do with an Orlesian party ever again."

"Yet, she still had the composure to dance with you afterwards." Josephine giggled. "I was impressed."

"We had a dwarf with us, during the Blight. Constantly drunk, had his own 'brew.' I think he was a bad influence, showed her that she's actually_ excellent_ at holding liquor. Most of it, anyway. Made her cocky. Might be a Grey Warden thing." She shook her head, her stomach starting to hurt from laughing.

"Mind you, I don't think she was _completely_ sober afterwards. She did nearly trip and tear both her _and_ Lady de Launcet's dress." Josephine said, before slowly trying more of the wine.

Leliana shook her head, giggling. "No, that was just her dancing. She would have done it sober too."

For a while, they simply sat there, still bursting out into slight giggles here and there, and passed the tankard back and forth, finishing it off. Leliana felt like she hadn't whole-heartedly smiled in ages now.

"Josephine," Leliana finally said, her tone swiftly becoming more serious. "Can...can I tell you something?"

The Antivan seemed to pick up on her more serious tone, and despite struggling with the laughter still plaguing her, she nodded. "Of course."

"It's...you can't tell anyone else. Please."

Josephine narrowed her eyes slightly, seeming concerned. "I swear on my family's lives, I shall not. What is this about?"

Leliana sighed, rapping her fingers against the now-empty tankard as she slowly began to explain. "Aerya...she didn't just disappear."

Josephine raised an eyebrow. "I-what? There was panic, I didn't see you for _weeks_ afterwards. I thought, well..."

"I thought she was dead." Leliana said bluntly. "For a while. She...left, on her Calling."

Josephine frowned. "She's on her Calling? What do you mean for a while?"

Leliana looked up at her, her expression distant yet again. "She's trying to cure it. She can hold it back, for a time. But she's far away now, to the west. There's something there that may rid her of the Calling forever."

"And you told no one?" Josephine asked, still seeming bewildered at this news.

Leliana closed her eyes, and shook her head. "She asked me not to. When Cassandra wanted her for the Inquisition...I acted like I didn't know." She sighed.

Josephine rubbed the back of her neck, seeming at a loss for words.

"I don't suppose Cassandra would ever trust me again if she found out I lied to her, just like Varric did." Leliana pondered. "Aerya would probably be dead if I'd told her, and we found her. I...suppose it was for the best, in the end."

"I understand." Josephine said, nodding slowly.

Leliana raised an eyebrow. She was half-expecting a scolding from her. "You do?"

Josephine nodded again. "You lied to keep a promise to someone you care about. I understand."

Leliana looked away, surprised. "I...thank you."

"Do you know where she is now?" Josephine asked.

She shook her head in response. "No. I want to warn her about Corypheus, and know she's fine, but...I have no idea how I might reach her."

Her friend smiled warmly, and reached over to place a hand on her shoulder. "You'll find a way, I know you will."

* * *

><p>For the next week, Leliana worked tirelessly on how to get a message to Aerya. After the ordeal at Adamant, her thought process seemed entirely divided between that and tossing around the 'spirit' Justinia's final words in her mind. The more complete report of recent events had arrived along with the Inquisitor, and it was...troubling. If the words were meant to put her mind at ease, they failed - now she was just more conflicted than before. She had her nose buried in reports, notes and letters so much over the following few days that some joked about her resembling a Tranquil; hardly speaking, seeming constantly buried in work and never without a thing to do. Josephine had even started sending her meals up to the rookery when she hadn't showed up for them - and most of the time, she didn't eat them even then. She either forgot, or didn't care to. Not now.<p>

Making contact with Aerya was a more daunting task than she'd ever anticipated - she had contacts, people who knew how to get messages to anyone, anywhere. But for most of those contacts, 'anywhere' usually meant 'anywhere that's actually in Thedas.' In the Warden's case, Leliana hardly even knew if she_ was_ in Thedas anymore. It was likely her love hadn't had contact with another living soul for years on end - there was nobody who could point to where she went either. Usually, when searching for someone like this, you could follow the rumors and construct a trail where there was none...but the farther west you went, the more difficult that generally became. Crest the Hunterhorn Mountains into uncharted territory, and you were a ghost. Eventually it would take the best trackers in the world _years_ to find you - and with the amount of time Aerya had been gone, who knew how far over them she was.

But she didn't have years. Corypheus had some effect on those carrying the taint, mage or no. He had caused a false Calling, driving some Wardens over the edge. Perhaps she was out of range of his sway, but she had to be warned._ Somehow._

She considered magic. Some sort of spell that could give a raven a destination even when they didn't know where that was. When asked if such a thing was possible, however, the magical assistants poking around the tower told her it was impossible unless you actually knew _where_ you were going.

For a while, she almost lost hope. It was impossible. If there was some way, it was out of her reach. _Aerya_ was out of her reach. The sudden despair and emptiness of the thought washed over her like a wave.

That was until Solas caught wind of what she was doing. Or, trying to do. He didn't know the details - not fully, anyway, but the elven mage put two and two together. Leliana was searching for someone who was missing. Given how frantically and tirelessly she'd been searching for a way to do it, it was somebody close to her. Given what everyone knew about her and the Hero of Ferelden, it was likely her. Given that everyone knew the Hero of Ferelden had been missing for years, he assumed it was no easy task. And given that the ring on her finger, he said, often belonged to paramours, he assumed it was related to Aerya.

The ring.

It was something she'd never been told before, but the elven mage explained such objects are usually enchanted. A light, subtle enchantment, that most people aren't even aware is there - but the two related objects are usually linked to one another, in an unbreakable bond. It was as if the ring could feel, and one was always aware of where the other one was, even if the wearer was not. Stronger versions of the enchantment could often take different effects; the wearers could sense each other's feelings, moods...Leliana's, however, was weathered, almost worn off - but Solas explained that it was enough. The enchantment could be followed; there was no maximum range to it. With a little goading, a messenger bird could follow the link to the opposite end.

For the first time all week, a glimmer of hope.

So for the next two hours, she sat at her desk, quill in hand, trying to figure out what she would say. What she _could_ say. It had been nearly five years since she'd even even _heard_ from her love. At times, it felt like much, much more than that. She was a bard; a storyteller, poet, and wordsmith...and here she was, with not the faintest idea of what words she could use. After so long, what could possibly suffice?

She felt like she'd been sitting there all day when she finally dabbed her quill in the ink, and began to write. As delicately and carefully as she could.

**_Dearest,_**

**_I pray this message reaches you, and that you are well. It was no small task to get it to you, wherever you are. _**

**_Maker, it's difficult to think of words for this. It's been too long. _**

**_First and foremost, I bring a warning. I'm not sure if you've heard - if you COULD have heard - what has been happening here. You left right when it was reaching its head. Remember what I told you before you left, about the situation in Kirkwall? It escalated, far more than I could have anticipated. All of Thedas plunged into chaos; mages waging war against the Templars, the Templars splitting off from the Chantry to hunt them...it's been utter madness. Justinia wanted to put an end to it peacefully, she held a peace conference, a conclave, and..._**

**_She's dead, love. She was the head of the Chantry, the voice of the Maker...and now she's dead. She wanted peace, but it meant nothing. Serving the Maker meant nothing. I was her left hand, her guardian...and now she's dead. I did...nothing. It's been difficult. Sometimes too difficult to bear. I wish you were here. Maker, I need you here. I pushed you away before, about my struggles, my sorrows...and I regret that every single day. Maker, I do. You were always there for me before, when I was doubting myself - a listening ear when I needed it most, someone who would always try to make it better...and for all these years serving the Divine, I pushed you away. Now she's gone, and...I'm sorry, love. I know I hurt you. Never again. When you return, nothing is ever going to come between us. I swear it. _**

**_Where was I? Right, warning you. Fortunately, we know who's responsible for all this. Corypheus, a darkspawn. Allegedly one of the first Magisters to enter the Fade and unleash the Blight upon the world. Have you heard of him? I suppose you may have heard rumors of it all, anyway. Warden secrets and such. _**

**_He has some measure of control over tainted creatures. He had all the Wardens in southern Thedas hearing a false Calling after he awoke - some of them he had completely mind-controlled to his will, some threw in with him out of fear. We stopped that, but...the Wardens are regarded...differently now. I fear what you might have to deal with when you return. _**

**_While he may not be able to control you, I still fear for you, every single day. I'm still not entirely certain of the extent of his reach and control. Please, just get back to me as soon as you can. I can't bear not knowing if you're alright or not._**

**_But now I'm running out of page. Stay safe, love. Please, for the sake of both of us. It's not the first time we've been apart, but never has it been as long as this. We had a dream of traveling the world together for as long as we could...if you're successful in your quest, let that be forever. For the longest time, you were the first thing I saw in the morning, the last I saw at night...and in that time, I was truly happy. More than I've ever been in my whole life. If I could have one thing, it would be for that to be the case yet again._**

**_I love you, and p_**_**lease respond as soon as you can, **_

_**Leliana**_

When she felt that she was content with it as she was ever going to be, she signed the letter off, and after letting the ink dry, she delicately folded it up and slid it into an envelope. She sealed it carefully, as if was prone to burst into flames at any moment if she had the slightest misstep...and it was ready. The letter ended up being longer than she anticipated, but she could have written for hours. She would send something to write with, too. She didn't suppose Aerya had anything out there. Maybe a gift of some sort too, if possible. Or something that could help. She only needed the Inquisitor's leave, for the resources required.

"Send for the Inquisitor, please." She called to one of her messengers. "I...have something I need to discuss."

* * *

><p>Two weeks passed. For two weeks straight, Leliana literally jumped out of her chair at every raven to arrive, tossing aside whatever she was doing and tearing open any letter meant for her. Every time it was some mission report or something formally addressed to 'Sister Nightingale' she'd sigh, going through everything else she'd received to make sure she wasn't missing it, before half-heartedly opening it and slogging through the long, dragged-on official messages. She'd hardly been able to focus for the past weeks, with Josephine taking up the slack for a great many of her correspondence. She hadn't asked her to do so, but her friend seemed to have assumed this would happen when her message got out. She was grateful - she probably wouldn't be able to get much done anyway, as she was demonstrating with her sighs and groans upon receiving anything that wasn't from Aerya.<p>

She'd made multiple inquiries about the status of the letter and parcel she had sent, sometimes twice in the same day. The answer from her contact that had arranged for the delivery had always been the same. _'It is away. We're awaiting word.'_

On the rare occasion where there wasn't anything to read, she found herself pacing. Or, sometimes, praying at the tiny shrine she'd erected in the corner of the rookery upon arriving here. She hadn't been doing that anywhere near as much as she used to, but she still liked to make the effort when she could. She had been just finishing that when she heard Josephine approach.

"Are you ever going to sleep?" She asked, setting down the tray of food she'd carried up on Leliana's desk. "Or eat?"

Leliana didn't respond, just stayed crouched by the shrine. She wasn't quite praying anymore, just...thinking.

"The letter has to go a long way, Leliana." Josephine sighed, stirring what sounded like tea. "I'm sure it's on its way."

There was a momentary silence, before Leliana finally spoke. "What if it's not? What if it never gets to her? What...what if she's not _there_ to get it?"

Josephine shook her head, putting the tea down. "It will, Leliana. If there's one thing I've learned about the Hero of Ferelden from the brief time I knew her, it's that she's resourceful. I'm sure she's fine."

Leliana didn't respond, just sighed. "She's all alone out there. She has been for years."

Josephine stood up slowly. Her friend rubbed her eyes, yawned, and glanced over at her with her usual concern. "Well, she'll be even happier to be back when she returns, then." She smiled.

Once again, Leliana was silent.

The Antivan ambassador sighed, turning to leave. "Drink. Eat. Then sleep, maybe?"

"I'll sleep when I'm dead." She replied, bluntly.

"Well, that'll come _much_ quicker if you're starving and tired, yes."

With that, she began to descend the spiral staircase back to the lower level.

Another week passed, with Leliana in a similar state. Pacing, praying, almost absent-mindedly responding to any unrelated correspondence that arrived, and waiting. She'd always subconsciously thumbed the ring around her finger out of muscle memory before, only to find it was gone, at least temporarily. She was halfway through a particularly boring report from an agent she had planted within the Nevarran court, when the hand she was propping herself up with lurched forward, and her head drooped onto her desk. Next thing she knew, she was fast asleep.

* * *

><p><em>Her arm throbbed as she reached into her quiver, nocking another arrow, and firing. She felt like her fingers were going to fall off each time she pulled the bowstring back, and released. It had been nearly four hours of fighting now. Four hours since they'd burst through the Denerim gates and slowly, with much bloodshed, pushed towards Fort Drakon. That was three hours. The last hour had been spent up here, neck-deep in a sea of darkspawn and, looming above them all, the Archdemon itself. The corrupted dragon was a terrifying nightmare of scales and seemingly rotted flesh, with piercing red eyes shaking you to your very core as hazy purple flame fumed from its mouth. Every ear-splitting roar the creature let out shook Leliana to the core, but she continued loosing arrows, making sure to keep any darkspawn off of Aerya and Alistair, who were currently grappling with the towering dragon. <em>

_The beast had been wounded by Riordan's valiant move, but bringing it down still seemed an impossible task. She saw Aerya weaving and darting under the creature's claws, rolling under its belly and jabbing up at the softer, exposed flesh. It roared, but more in annoyance than pain, kicking its legs in an attempt to catch the small elf with one of them. She was too quick, however, and besides a few scrapes from one of its long claws that made Leliana wince at the sight, she managed to get away. _

_The fighting went on for another solid half-hour, Leliana and evidently everyone else becoming even more exhausted as time went on. Leliana was about to loose another arrow into a genlock's skull, when a searing, blunt pain shot up from her ribcage. A hurlock, spiky mace in hand, had crept up behind her, and was raising its mace yet again for the killblow. A bolt of lightning from where Morrigan stood sent it careening backwards however, a burning hole in its chest. She attempted to struggle to her feet, but to no avail, and she saw Morrigan quickly becoming overwhelmed as well, most of Arl Eamon's front line having perished long ago. _

_Through gritted teeth she turned quickly as she heard a cry of pain from up ahead. The archdemon's right talon had managed to connect with Alistair, and despite his raised shield, the force of the impact sent him soaring backwards, crashing into one of the tower's spires with a sharp thud. She saw him attempt to struggle to his feet, but it was of no use. It was just Aerya now. _

_The Archdemon was evidently on its last legs by now. Its tainted, black flesh was torn and bleeding thick, inky blood, and its movements seemed more and more strained with every attempt. It swung its front arms towards Aerya once, twice, each which were nimbly dodged. The third swing, however, connected, and there was a terrifying crunching sound as the massive dragon's claws tore through the metal on Aerya's shoulder like it was paper, sending her spinning backwards with a gaping wound on her left arm. One of her swords flew out of her grasp as a result, and spiraled into the air and off the fort, landing somewhere in the burning city below. _

_The Archdemon couldn't smile, but it likely would have been as it advanced on its wounded quarry crawling across the ground, fighting to rise to her feet with her numb and useless arm. The creature opened its mouth, began to inhale deeply for one final breath...when Leliana heard one last gasp of effort from the small, wounded elven woman. She shot up, ignoring the pain in her other arm, and swung her remaining sword with all her might across the Archdemon's upper neck. The creature roared in agony, and Aerya lunged up once again, burying the glowing, star-metal sword into the exposed flesh of its neck. The beast collapsed, roaring angrily in defiance, but unable to move any further. _

_Leliana saw Aerya breathing heavily as she limped towards the wounded dragon, sucking in air with a hiss of agony on each laboured breath. She saw her take one last look back at her, a brief flash of...uncertainty, maybe fear, in her eyes, before she raised her sword high above her head, and sunk it into the Archdemon's skull. _

_And then everything went white. _

_Her vision cleared minutes later, and she forced herself to her feet. The darkspawn had fled at the sight of their Archdemon's death, some throwing themselves off the tower or hurrying down the steps to be finished off by the forces below. She stumbled forward, wincing in pain as she did...and saw her. Aerya. She was crumpled up in a heap in the far corner, having been flung back by the explosion. There was a violent-looking gash on her head that was bleeding profusely, her long, brownish-blonde hair matted with thick, black blood that dripped down her face, and she was evidently completely unconscious. Or worse. _

_Moving as fast as her legs and broken ribs allowed, she collapsed next to her, collecting the unmoving Warden's limp body in her arms. "No, no, no..." She cried, brushing her thick, sticky hair out of her grime-covered face. _

_"Please, no..." _

_She searched all over, searched for some sign of life. She was breathing. Faintly. Morrigan had said she'd survive, thanks to the ritual Alistair had performed...but there was no telling if she wouldn't die from something other than the Archdemon's soul. _

_"Please...don't do this..."_

* * *

><p>Leliana awoke to the sound of a raven zooming into the rookery, sounding overburdened by something heavy and impatient to land. Leliana lurched up, bewildered for a moment, before shooting up from her chair and racing over to where it perched. She lifted off the small parcel strapped around it hastily, and quickly set it down on her table-top. She tore open the binding on it without hesitation, and lifted it open to find three letters, and a variety of items, including her ring.<p>

_To the Inquisitor... _one read. The handwriting was unmistakable. Her heart racing, she set that one aside to give to the Inquisitor later, and lifted out the second letter.

This one was unsealed, more of a note than anything else.

**_Sister Leliana, _**

**_The Hero of Ferelden answered our message. She sent letters, one for the Inquisitor, and one of a...personal nature, for your eyes only, my lady. _**

Feeling like her heart was going to tear out of her chest, and with the beginnings of tears welling up in her eyes, she picked out the third, sealed letter.

_Leliana_

She wanted to tear it open, but she found herself delicately breaking the seal and unraveling it. Swiping a tear out of her eyes, she set it on the table, smiling as she saw the messy writing scrawled out on the page. Aerya had evidently given this her all in being neater than usual, but it was unmistakably her's.

_**Ma vhenan, **_

_**Creators, I hadn't expected to hear from you. I didn't think it was possible for anyone to get a letter to me out here. It's welcome, however - I've been out here for far, far too long. The entire world could have ended, and out here...I wouldn't have even known until after the fact. And by the sounds of it, I didn't. I appreciate your warning, love, but rest easy. If Corypheus has any sway over me, he can't do anything from here. Your Inquisitor wrote about this Inquisition of yours - it sounds like an impressive thing you've helped start, and I have no doubt you'll succeed in bumping this 'magister,' whatever it is, down a notch. I just wish I could be there, doing that with you. **_

_**I know Justinia was like a mother to you. I didn't know her as well as you did, but I could see she was a special woman. I could see the influence she had over you just by speaking to her, hearing her ideas...I know her death must have struck at you terribly, and if I know anything, you're probably blaming yourself for not being there. Creators, I wish I could tell you this in person, but this will have to suffice. It isn't your fault, Leliana. None of this is. This Inquisitor walked out of the Fade afterwards, the only one to do so, and it seems like it was for a reason. You couldn't have predicted what would happen, what this 'Corypheus' would do. Don't use this as an excuse to tear yourself up, to slip. I know you're better than that. I know she knew it too. She'd want you to stay strong, to keep your faith. You pulled through when all seemed lost to you before, I know you can do that again. **_

_**When I return to you, we can talk about this in person. No more secrets, nothing held back. I know you had your reasons the last time. I was hurt, but I assumed you would talk to me when you were ready. When I started hearing the Calling, I thought it was too late. But now it isn't. I'm going to be fine, ma vhenan. I know I will. **_

_**I'm close. So, so close. I wouldn't disclose my findings on paper, only in person...but know I'm hopeful. If you know cynical old me, that's saying something. Things will be back to how they were, how we wanted them to be. I think of those days every single waking hour. Nothing would make me happier than to never have to spend another moment apart from you ever again. **_

_**Stay strong, stay safe, and please kick this Corypheus out of Thedas. That would probably be unpleasant if he was still kicking when I get back. **_

_**I love you. If I could say only one thing in this message, know that. I love you. **_

_**Ma emma lath, ma vhenan, **_

_**Aer**_

**_(P.S, we need to get me new shoes when I get back. These ones are basically ruined, sorry. I'm lucky I'm used to shoes without soles...) _**

Closing her eyes, Leliana hugged the note tightly to her chest, and cried. For the first time in what seemed like years, they were not out of sorrow.

_She's okay. She's out there._

* * *

><p><em><strong>To be continued...<strong>_


	4. Homecoming

**Many thanks once again to everyone who's reading, following, and reviewing this on a regular basis. I don't write as often as I'd like, but knowing folks are enjoying it gives me all the more desire to keep doing so. :)**

* * *

><p><strong>9:41 Dragon<strong>

Aerya's letter helped immeasurably with Leliana's mood for the following months. She was less distant, friendlier, perhaps; while still being dedicated to her work, she didn't seem completely consumed by it every hour of the day. She smiled more often, and many people, particularly Josephine, seemed to take notice of her occasionally having a slight skip in her step while softly singing under her breath. Justinia's demise and final words still weighed on her terribly, but at least one part of her that had been ripped away had been at least partially restored - and soon she found closure on even the other half. A posthumous letter had drawn her back to the Valence Chantry, a place with a very deep meaning for both her, Justinia, _and_ Aerya. It had been almost surreal to visit the quiet little chapel again, and she once more found herself absent-mindedly rubbing the ring around her finger while thinking back to when she'd received it there. Standing there, gazing up at the beautiful murals and golden embroidery again...it was difficult to believe it had been eight years since that happy memory. Despite herself, she couldn't help but smile.

It was short-lived, however. Just like she'd predicted, she wasn't the only one who had been drawn to the place. Sister Natalie, a 'colleague,' of sorts, had been there already, quick to act friendly and welcoming under the guise of old friends reunited. She'd always been a slippery one, with a knack for using her silver tongue to her advantage...but she wasn't a bard. Leliana had quickly caught onto her little scam - but when she stood there, knife to her throat, her life in her hands...she'd faltered. It had become so _easy_ to kill. Ending lives was as natural as breathing for her, a second nature. She didn't like it, nor enjoy it, but she always considered what she did of the utmost necessity. She'd always justified it as protecting what she loved, be it Justinia, or Justinia's Inquisition. This is what she did, and what she had to do, whether she liked it or not. But standing there, watching the fear in Natalie's eyes as she recited the Chant and waiting for the knife to find her throat...she didn't do it. She wouldn't do it.

_I know you're better than that. I know she knew it too. _Aerya's letter echoed in her head - and with a sigh, she lowered the blade.

And then it had all come together. Justinia left a message for her, long ago. _'The left hand should lay down her burdens.'_

She'd been released. The whole time she was serving the Divine, she'd feared that she was...using her. Her skills, the old life that had brought her so much pain and suffering, as Justinia had been well aware. She knew she was dragging her back into it, even if it was for a cause now...and perhaps taking her away from what she held dear in the process. She remembered that day, when Justinia had performed the private ceremony for her and Aerya...as the bard and the elf embraced, tears in their eyes, she saw Justinia looking on. She'd been smiling, perhaps there was some pride behind that gaze...but there had been something else there too. Sadness, perhaps. Regret, for what she was about to ask of her - and what she was about to inevitably drive a wall between.

Leliana had not immediately agreed when Justinia put forth her proposal. She knew she owed the former Revered Mother her life, and much more than that. But Justinia hadn't been asking her to serve on gratitude alone. That was not who she was. She needed someone who _truly_ believed by her side. Leliana had discussed the idea with Aerya extensively over the next few months until Dorothea became Justinia. Her lover knew it would likely mean long periods of separation, and that saddened them both greatly - but Aerya insisted, as much as it hurt, that if her heart told her she should be there, then she should. And so when the time came, she took her place at Justinia's side, eyes bright despite the sadness behind her, and seeing a future where they made the Chantry better.

Now here she was. The Chantry in shambles, a sea of blood behind her, and Justinia dead. There was even word she could possibly be her successor. Her. The bard who was outplayed, forgotten as a Lay Sister, and just _happened_ to know the last Divine.

_"I'm sorry, I failed you too." _

She knew what Justinia had meant now. She felt a resounding sadness at first, that her old mentor had died thinking she had ruined her. But eventually she felt...free. Once her business with the Inquisition was finished, she could do as she saw fit without guilt or reservation. Justinia had wanted her to be free of all obligation, to put down the cloak and dagger and let her mind settle and her blood cool. She had always wanted it, when things were done - to be able to drop it all, return to her love and stay with her for good. But now she realized how much she _needed_ it.

The Inquisitor and her had hardly spoken at all during the week-long voyage back to Skyhold. There was far too much being tossed back and forth in her mind, far too much weight building up on the already unsteady supports holding up her mind.

Josephine, however, had chatted her ear off upon her return. She was impressed and pleased with the restraint she'd shown in regards to Natalie, and proceeded to praise her actions incessantly. 'Niceness before knives, Leliana!' she had told her, an infuriating look of pride on her face. 'Just like I've always told you!'

"Violence _is_ a solution." Leliana had muttered while shaking her head, before continuing with a sigh. "_Sometimes._"

Despite her dismissive attitude (which she mostly put up only so she wouldn't give Josie the satisfaction) she _was_ feeling better about herself than she had in a while. At that moment, it had only really been the upcoming Divine election that was conflicting her.

On one hand...she did believe the Chantry needed to change. She always had, ever since she'd first stepped foot in its doors. The Chantry liked to act like it believed all were worthy, but apparently _some_ were more worthy than others. Andraste had freed elves, taken them as friends and allies, yet they were turned away at Chantry doors all the time, and the entire organization turned a blind eye to the injustices done to them on a regular basis. Elves, dwarves, even Qunari if need be; if they wished to accept the Maker into their hearts, they should _not_ be turned away. They should not be treated like they are lesser, as she herself had in Lothering when she spoke of her contrasting beliefs. The Chantry's charity should extend to_ all_. Mages too - she knew some who were better people than she was, yet they spent their entire lives shut away in gilded cages for the crime of existing. It needed to change.

On the other hand...there was Aerya. If her becoming the Divine's Left Hand had been a significant wall in their love, her becoming _Divine_ would be a mountain. There were vows to take, oaths she'd have to swear. Clergy breaking those vows was a highly scandalous offense even among lower members of the Chantry hierarchy, with the Divine herself it would be sufficient cause for pure outrage. It wasn't unheard of by any means, but it wouldn't just be the broken vows in her and Aerya's case that would bring the wrath of the people down upon them - the sad truth is, it would also be because of _who_ her lover was. A Dalish elf. A heretic. No matter how many Archdemons she kills, or how many nations she saves, that was who she was. They would see this new Divine, making changes to allow elves into the Chantry and promoting tolerance towards the 'knife ears' - and then they'd see the hand of said Divine's heathen lover behind it all. Her being a great Warden hero would mean little by the end of it.

Yet the more she thought about it, the less she cared what close-minded fools would think. Or the laws. If in order to spread word of the Maker's love, she had to give up everything _she_ loved, what was the point? She would serve as an example to the faithful, and what example would that be? That you should abandon all other love and passion you may hold in exchange for the Maker's? That any earthly love you may have is petty and insignificant when compared to that of the Maker himself? She would rebuild the Chantry from the ground up anyway - what were a few rules? She'd change them. She'd tear down every single barrier that would get in the way if need be. She would _not_ lose her again. Not after they'd been through so much together to get themselves here.

In the end, however, her thoughts were for naught. Little more than a month later, the Inquisition's efforts against Corypheus reached their final stretch, and before they knew it the sky was mended, and the magister dead and gone. Word arrived from Val Royeaux shortly after - the clerics had decided on Cassandra as Justinia's successor. She was to become Divine Victoria, first of her name. It was difficult to imagine Cassandra in a red hat and robe, but eventually Leliana came to terms with it. She was admittedly disappointed at first, that her ideas couldn't go through...but she knew Cassandra had her heart in the right place, anger issues and tendency to bludgeon anything that gets in her way aside. She would do well, and perhaps it _was_ for the best. _The Left Hand should lay down her burdens..._

Thus, she found herself actually smiling as she settled down at one of the tables in the great hall, taking her place next to Josephine. The entire Inquisition would be spending the night celebrating, as was their right. They deserved it. In the span of months, a rag-tag band of upstarts had gathered the support to sway nations, and won a decisive victory against one of the most powerful magisters in history. Their work wasn't done, not yet, and she doubted they'd simply dissolve when all was said and done...but for now, they were simply celebrating. Celebrating their victory, or perhaps just being alive to see it.

Josephine had gone to great lengths to make sure the evening was as fanciful as she could manage; dishes and drinks from all over Thedas, some appetizing, some barely looking edible. She'd spent the last few hours smirking to herself as she watched her friend dart back and forth between tables and people, fussing over every minute detail. A collection of decadent Orlesian-style sugary cakes drew her eye as soon as they were lain out, and she had subtly swiped a few before anyone was the wiser. She had a weakness for these things - Marjolaine had been a fan, often covertly sneaking a few while her back was turned, and soon Leliana had developed a fondness for them as well. She'd never managed to pass the taste on to Aerya, however. The Dalish woman had developed a lot of bizarre tastes upon entering the human world, but a sweet tooth was not one of them. Hadn't stopped the Warden from purchasing a few for her whenever they'd passed through a bakery while on the road, however.

"I see you've finally cooled down," Leliana giggled, picking away at one of the cakes and glancing at Josephine.

The Antivan woman took a deep breath, evidently still worked up. "The...The Inquisitor, er, _ordered me_, to stop fussing over everything. And that everything was fine. And that the roast boar _was_ done properly." She shook her head. "Lady Ellise said -"

"They're _Orlesian,_ Josie." Leliana chuckled, shaking her head. "They'll complain about anything if they want to."

"Right." Josephine said, nodding slowly. "Orlais."

For a while, they simply sat, listening to the revelry and celebration chiming through the great hall. Leliana couldn't help but remember the celebration after the Blight had been ended, looking at all the people gathered, an atmosphere of relief and pure reverence floating above the room as they welcomed their new heroes. She was sure there would be many more titles dropped upon each of their heads after today, much like the dozen that had fallen to Aerya in one evening. Food hadn't been as good at that party, though. No matter how rich they were, Fereldens wouldn't understand quality food if they were beaten over the head with the most scrumptious roast duck one could procure.

* * *

><p><em>"So here we are," she began, smiling warmly as Aerya had descended the steps from the throne where she and Alistair had been standing. She had still been dressed in full Grey Warden regalia, her chestplate shined to the point of being almost blinding, her flowing blue cloak flawless and perfectly tailored for the occasion. Leliana had wanted to get her in a dress, but Aerya had wanted to look the part of who she supposedly was now. The great Hero of Ferelden. Commander of the Grey - as she had been recently made aware of - and savior of the nation. "The conquering heroine has won the day, and now she takes her bow, and exits the stage. A fine ending."<em>

_"Hmmm," Aerya had nodded, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "But does the heroine get her girl?" _

_Leliana giggled, her smile widening. "Yes. Yes - she most certainly does." _

_The elven Warden smiled in response, taking a step closer. _

_"So, if I heard right, you'll be leaving soon." Leliana said. "Any room for an extra body on your travels?" _

_"Only if it's your's." Aerya had replied suggestively, subtly wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. _

_"Good." Leliana said softly, looking into Aerya's eyes with a smile. "Because there's no place I'd rather be than at your side." _

_With that, they'd tenderly embraced, not a care in the world for the whole hall watching and having lit up with either surprise or applause in response._

* * *

><p>"So," Josephine's voice snapped her out of the happy memory. "Happy you don't have the responsibility of being Divine on your shoulders?"<p>

Leliana shrugged. "Maybe it's for the best."

"I think you deserve to just get away from it all, Leliana." Josephine said, taking a sip of her wine. "You've done more than enough."

She nodded slowly in response. "I...I think I may, in time."

"When Aerya returns?"

She smiled longingly, and nodded. "We've been apart for...far, far too long now." She looked over at Josephine. "No one could blame me for wanting to make up for that time, no?"

Josephine smiled, reaching over and putting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I certainly don't. You've more than earned it, Leliana. Now...excuse me. I think I see Lady Ellise glaring at me again. Oh Maker."

The Antivan rose quickly and shot off to attend to her dozen other 'pressing' concerns during the festivities, and for a while, Leliana just sat in silence, drinking her wine slowly, occasionally smiling as someone familiar passed. After a while, the dim light outside started to dissipate, and the mostly inebriated crowd began to scatter as the day came to a close. Seeing her opportunity, she slipped away, slinking through the door that lead to Skyhold's rookery tower.

She hadn't gone far when she ran into Morrigan.

The witch was wrapped up tightly in a cloak, a bag draped over her back, and her gnarled wooden staff precariously balancing off of a sling thrown over her shoulder. Her son, Kieran, was in tow, seeming similarly dressed for travel with his own small bag and cloak. The two of them appeared to have been waiting for her. They hadn't spoken much in the time Morrigan had been here - they had never gotten along well back during the Blight, despite the fact that Aerya had been close friends with the raven-haired mage. She used to speak in such a haughty, arrogant tone that had simply _infuriated_ her, often speaking words meant only to do harm. However, she had to admit the woman had changed for the better. She seemed more polite now, matured. She wondered if that was her son's influence. Or maybe it was Aerya's, in part.

"Leliana." Morrigan said flatly, shifting uncomfortably.

"Morrigan." Leliana replied in a similar fashion, the atmosphere rapidly becoming awkwardly tense. "Running off again, I see."

"Corypheus is gone." Morrigan replied. "I've never been one to stay around longer than I'm needed. _You_ people can enjoy your revelries."

Leliana chuckled, despite herself. "Just like last time, I see."

Morrigan rubbed the back of her neck, sighing. "Yes...I suppose so."

"Just with the boy a bit...older, this time, no?"

Morrigan sighed, as Kieran looked up with wide eyes. "She knew you before?"

"Yes..." Morrigan replied, looking down at her son. "We had mutual acquaintances."

"Like the lady you talk about?" Kieran asked. "The one you call 'friend?'"

Leliana smiled at the boy, and she could have sworn Morrigan did too. If anything, a brief flash of nostalgia flashed across her face. "Yes. Like her." She sighed.

She turned back to Leliana. "That's...what I meant to ask you about, in fact."

"About Aerya?"

Morrigan nodded solemnly. "I...meant to ask sooner, but...you two were close, and I'd heard she disappeared, but when I saw she was not with you, I thought...well, I thought it might be a..."

"Sore subject." Leliana finished for her. She really _had_ changed.

"Yes." Morrigan sighed. "She's...she's alright, isn't she?"

There was genuine concern in the witch's eyes, and an unmistakable look of regret. Aerya had told her what had happened, when she ventured off to find Morrigan, anxious for closure on her friend's whereabouts. They'd said their goodbyes, but just like that, Morrigan had departed through the mirror, not accepting the help or advice of her closest friend. Perhaps she regretted that now, when she heard of the Warden's disappearance.

"She's fine." Leliana told her, smiling slightly, longingly. "She left some time ago, chasing a lead that could cure her of the Warden's Calling for good."

"Then I...hope she succeeds." Morrigan sighed with relief. "For the sake of both of us. She's...the first, well, _only_ true friend that I've ever had. A sister, perhaps. If anyone deserves a little happiness in their life...it's her. If - when - she returns...tell her I wished the both of you well."

Leliana nodded with a smile, not sure whether she was touched or shocked at the sentiment. Morrigan didn't give her much time to reply, however, as she gathered up her things and shepherded Kieran out of the door behind her hurriedly. For a few moments, Leliana simply stood in the hallway, smiling and pondering, before she gathered herself and continued up the stairs to the rookery, and went back to business.

* * *

><p>Eight long months passed, until she heard word of her Warden. She'd been buried in her papers as usual - though there were fewer of them now that things were slowly cooling down, there was still work to do. Cassandra's ascension was not particularly graceful by any means, so she found herself often collaborating with Josephine and dealing with dissent to ease her into the position over the next few months. Despite the initial difficulty, Cassandra performed her duties admirably, quickly reforming many aspects of the Chantry such as the Circle and Templars. Leliana would have done things differently, perhaps, but Cassandra was changing things for the better - and she trusted and respected the woman, despite their disagreements. She had no intention of becoming Left Hand again, however. Thankfully, Cassandra hadn't even asked.<p>

"Lady Nightingale," one of her agents began, approaching her desk quickly and seeming slightly exhausted, as if he had sprinted all the way up here. "I have word that may be of interest to you."

Leliana looked up from her papers, setting down her quill and nodding for him to proceed. The man cleared his throat, and continued. "Word from the west, my lady. Rumors are swelling up that the Hero of Ferelden has been spotted in western Orlais, heading east from the Western Approach, with the last rumor coming from Val Foret."

Leliana's heart skipped a beat. She managed to maintain composure in front of her agent, but it was with great difficulty. "You're - you're certain?"

The man shrugged. "Rumors, my lady. But they're coming up from all over, so there may be some sliver of truth to them. We figured you should be alerted."

Leliana smiled, and nodded. "I appreciate it."

Bowing his head, the agent dropped a few letters on her desk before turning, and running off to his other duties. Leliana slowly stood up, her heart beating rapidly in her chest with excitement, and moved to the window overlooking the courtyard. For a while, she just gazed out of it longingly, a smile creeping up on the corners of her mouth.

_She's back._

* * *

><p><strong>9:42 Dragon<strong>

Former Warden-Commander Aerya Mahariel pulled her cloak tighter around herself, shivering slightly as the winter breeze kicked in. Her horse plodded along through the light snow blanketing the Imperial Highway heartily, her breath coming out in visible clouds in the cold. Winter had only just started, but it was evidently set to be the coldest one in a long while - the trees were already long dead, lakes were ice-cold as they prepared to freeze over, and snow had slowly begun to come down over Orlais; lightly at first, but occasionally winter smashed into Orlesian cities' gates like a battering ram, burying the world in a thick blanket of white. The Imperial Highway was silent this time of year. With the exception of a few merchants, bundled up in thick furs and barely acknowledging Aerya as their carts hobbled by, she'd hardly run into a soul over the last few weeks. The only sounds she heard these days was the whistle of the wind through the dead forests, the bare pillars shifting and waving in the winter wind, and the sound of various winter creatures calling out across the lonely expanse.

Usually, she'd love this solitude. The time she'd spent among humans had made her grow accustomed to the noise and fuss of cities, but she had _always_ longed for wilderness again. The quiet, the peace. Growing up, it hadn't always been easy - out in the open, winters had been hard for her clan, and were never without hardships. She'd lost many friends to the bitter cold season, be it through freezing, starvation, or sickness. But it didn't change the fact that the open air, the wind whipping through your hair as you rode through the clearings, the quiet sound of rushing rivers and forest animals as you settled down and simply listened...she wouldn't trade it for anything.

However, now she found herself longing for the opposite. It had been over five years since she'd had any real contact with _anyone_. For the first couple of months, she'd actually been enjoying the thrill and uncertainty of the road, just like she used to. She would have given anything for Leliana to be there with her, but solitude was still welcome, even so. After years went by, however...loneliness became a significant factor. Just her, a dog, and a horse, and it was like that for years. After a while, she began to regret her decision to undertake this quest alone. Nathaniel would have gone with her, along with Sigrun, Oghren...all of them. She felt like it was a senseless danger to drag someone else into, however, and thus she'd taken to the road alone, thinking she could handle it. It became quickly apparent months in, however, that it was going to take its toll on her.

Now, completely unlike her usual quiet self, she had been jumping on the opportunity to speak with anyone for the first few days back in civilization. When she'd first crested the mountains and officially re-entered Orlais, it had been another few days of desert to trek through all around. The first village she'd encountered was a small, ragged settlement barely worthy of being called a village, hugging the outskirts of one of the oases she'd come across. The denizens of the small place had seemed wary of her, offering hospitality but seemed to hope she'd leave within the day. They obviously didn't get many visitors that far west, and Aerya quickly found herself on the road again. She eventually found a small village further east, on the outskirts of the desert, built around a couple of farms. The villagers there had been a bit more welcoming, and some of them even seemed to know who she was just by description alone. She hadn't intended to draw attention to herself at that point, but it was likely unavoidable. She wasn't dressed in anything that identified her as a Warden, but tales often described her in great detail. She'd be hard pressed to go anywhere without someone calling her out for who she was, even that far from Ferelden. Instead of denying it, she'd simply nodded nonchalantly, and invited the villagers to a drink. It had been far too long since she'd been in a tavern.

She had her fair share of encounters with bandits as well, however. _They_ didn't recognize her - rather than the great Hero of Ferelden, they saw a small, lonely elven woman. Not defenseless, by any means, but still small and by herself. The runed, star-metal sword, _Starfang_, still dangled at her hip, with her second ornate blade, _Vigilance,_ strapped across her back. The expensive-looking blades probably made her _more_ of a target than less, in retrospect - but it mattered little. They hadn't even been given the opportunity to regret their mistake before they were cut down - she may have been on her own for years, but it didn't mean she'd gotten rusty at fighting. There had been plenty of that to the west.

Bellenaris, however, seemed to have no problem with the solitude. The old mabari hound plodded along happily in the dead bushes off the highway, barking up trees as small animals scurried away. Sometimes he'd dive head-first into a snowdrift in an attempt to chase after them, rising up covered in snow with something squirming in his mouth, and turning to Aerya with an expecting look on his face. Aerya smiled, shaking her head, and the dog nonchalantly trotted off to eat somewhere quiet. He was always trying to retrieve things for her, be it dead animals, crushed cakes, or old pairs of pants. He was slowing down, however. The old boy had lived far beyond the expected lifespan of a war hound, almost eleven years old by now. His fur was heavily greyed around his belly and nose, and his coat had become much scrappier. The dog's spirit never wavered, though, even when his body couldn't quite keep up.

They were closing in on Val Royeaux - she could see the sprawling city stretch out before her as she crested the snowy hilltop and continued down the highway. She remembered when she saw the city for the first time. It was through a carriage window, lifting her head off of Leliana's lap as she blinked awake, and found herself agape at the splendor of it all. Leliana had described the Orlesian capital to her in great detail before, but this marked one of the few times where the expectation truly matched the reality. The bright, white spires reaching up to the sky as far as the eye can see, the bright colors, expensive-looking gold ornaments on every structure, the seemingly constant noise emanating from the bustling streets...Aerya had found herself quickly overwhelmed. The people walked by, staring at her through masked faces, covered from head to toe in seemingly outrageous fashions encrusted in silvers and golds - Leliana had told her the people often felt like decorations to the city, and she hadn't been kidding. The painted, masked citizens scurrying about _did_ feel like that, as if they were part of some grand sculpture.

The city was little different even during the winter, Aerya observed, as she guided her horse through the massive gates about half an hour later. There were perhaps slightly less people on the streets as they no doubt huddled by their fires for warmth, but there were still plenty of masked Royans going about their day. Some shot glances in her direction as she passed, suspiciously - her leathers, though slightly worn, were more expensive than one expected an elf to wear, much less one with the tattoos indicative of a Dalish nomad, and many eyed her horse as she plodded over to the stables, tossing a coin towards the stablemaster and going on her way, no doubt wondering how someone of _her_ station would afford such a steed. Many quickly tore their gazes away as Bellenaris proceeded to sniff up skirts and relieve himself on one or two legs, however, and Aerya continued forward, smirking.

She soon found herself in the market square. It was slightly less bustling than usual, but there were still plenty of nobles scoffing at outrageous prices and merchants cowering, not daring to speak. After walking in circles for a while, forgetting where it was, she found her destination - the local luthier. This was Leliana's favourite shop, one she found herself in often during their time together here. The instruments he made were of high quality, as evidenced by the hefty sums required for them. She found herself drawn to the lutes, running her fingers over one made of the finest Ironbark - how they acquired it, she didn't know. Only her people held the secret for harvesting it, but the feel of the material was unmistakable.

She was just about to pick it up when she heard footsteps approaching her from behind. She spun around quickly, expecting a pickpocket, but instead saw an elven woman dressed in a long cloak of green and orange. She was young, no more than her early twenties, but carried herself well. Which was fitting for her station, as she quickly put together - the insignia emblazoned on her cloak and brooch was the same symbol Leliana's letter had been sealed with. She was Inquisition.

"E-excuse me, my lady." The young woman stuttered, stopping in front of her and bowing her head slightly. "I just caught sight of you, and...Maker's breath, it _is_ you! You're the Hero of Ferelden, aren't you?"

"Who's asking?" Aerya asked, suspicious at how anyone would catch wind of her being in the city so soon after she entered.

"Apologies, my lady. Inquisition, Scout Ritts." She bowed slightly again, seeming nervous. "Sister Nightingale sent me to keep an ear to the ground and an eye open in case you showed up here."

_Sister Nightingale. _

"Leliana sent you?" Aerya said, seeming slightly amused as she shook her head. "Well, I'll never be able to take her by surprise, it seems."

Ritts nodded shakily. "She - she heard rumors of your return, my lady. Rather fast. Word travels quickly, and it often ends up in her ears these days."

Aerya raised an eyebrow. "You seem nervous."

The younger elf rubbed her hands together, shifting slightly as she applied weight to one foot then the other. "It's - it's just, you saved me, my lady. I...I don't suppose you'll remember. Funny how these things work. But I'll never forget that. During the Blight. Darkspawn attacking the Alienage in Denerim. I was there, just...ten, twelve years old." She stammered, seeming to look at the Warden with reverence. "You saved my life. Defended my home from those...things. I'm here because of you...you made me take up mum's bow she kept hidden away, learned how to scout, fight..."

Aerya smiled at her warmly. "It's...what I do, I suppose."

"As-as you say, my lady." Ritts said, bowing her head. "Leliana will be more than pleased. Would you like me to send word ahead?"

Aerya stroked her chin, an idea formulating in her head. "Don't bother with that."

"My lady?"

"Tell me...how much would I need to pay you to borrow that uniform?"

* * *

><p><strong>Three weeks later...<strong>

Aerya shivered slightly, and pulled the fur-lined Inquisition uniform tighter around herself for warmth. She was deep in the Frostbacks, wandering through the assortment of perilous cliff faces and jagged mountains, in the general direction of where the map Ritts had drawn up guided her. Her horse was evidently exhausted from the constant upward slope they were braving, but they couldn't stop now. Aerya rubbed her neck affectionately, whispering words of encouragement to keep the grey-white mare going. They were close, very close. There was no way she was going to hold up another night. Bellenaris had bounded ahead a few minutes ago, and she heard him barking through the winds, excited about something he'd found.

She crested another slope, expecting to see him holding the mummified remains of some poor traveler's pantaloons...but instead she saw it rise up before her from behind the mountain - a fortress. It shot up from the mountainside majestically; a massive castle, balancing almost dangerously on the slope, with a bridge extending from its gate to connect it to the other side of the massive gap stretching out before it. Not that there was any mistake, but the banners blowing in the strong winds identified it as the stronghold of the Inquisition.

Skyhold.

Smiling to herself, she continued down the mountain, and towards the slope that would take her to the front gates.

* * *

><p>She soon found herself trotting through the gates with an excitement rising up in her stomach. Leliana was somewhere in here. In a matter of minutes, she'd see her again - be able to hold her close for the first time in five years, hear her voice, tell her she was back for good, and nothing would ever come between them again. It was almost difficult to believe, and she had to fight the urge to simply burst up the courtyard's stairs to where she assumed the spymaster would spend her time, and completely give away who she was. Instead she guided her horse to the nearby stables, nodding at a human man who was tending to the horses there. Hefting her pack over her shoulder, she made her way up the stairs leading out of the unusually green courtyard without drawing too much attention. She evidently didn't stand out - she was pleased to see there were actually more than a few Dalish amongst the Inquisition. At a glance, she was simply one of them.<p>

"Andaran atish'an, lethallin. Do you know where Sister Nightingale might be at the moment?" She asked one of them, emphasizing her accent more than usual. She'd lost some of it over the years.

"The rookery as usual, one would assume." The Dalish man said, looking up from the arrows he was fletching. "Never seen you around. Where are you from, lethallan?"

"Sabrae Clan. My Keeper was Marethari, last time I was there." Aerya replied.

"Really?" The man seemed shocked. "Did you know the Hero of Ferelden? Mahariel? I hear she came from there."

Aerya smiled. "Knew her well, in fact. Grew up together."

"Wow." The man said, seeming impressed. "I hear the Nightingale and her were close. Wonder where she is now."

"She'll..." Aerya began, rubbing her neck. "She'll be back, I think. Not sure how well she would have adjusted to the public eye and all. Might have just slunk away for all I know. Ma serannas, lethallin."

She bowed to the man courteously, and made her way up the stairs to the castle's entrance. The great hall was a rather imposing sight, decorated in golden Chantry decor with statues reaching to the roof, and a menacing throne likened to a Chantry fire standing at the end of the hall. It was all flanked by two massive decorated windows, casting a blinding light into the room as one approached the throne. This throne room put Vigil's Keep's rustic interior to shame, she thought, as she made her way into eastern tower and up the spiral stairs. She'd seen the birds flying in from the courtyard; large ravens, some swooping in with what looked like a decent amount of weight strapped to their feet. She wondered where she got birds that strong, anyway.

She half walked, half jogged up the steps until she reached the top floor. She scanned the medium-sized, circular room, until she saw her, crouched by the small shrine on the opposite side of the room.

_Leliana._

She was thinner than she was the last time she'd seen her - that was the first thing she noticed, even through the lightly- armored leather garb she wore, and the hood that she kept lifted over her head. She was always slender, but now even more than usual. Had she not been eating? Had she been that stressed? She started to worry, another emotion being thrown into the pile and swirling together like a whirlpool in her head. But it was soon overwhelmed by the sheer excitement and happiness making it difficult to stand still.

She quickly turned as Leliana rose to her feet and made her way to her desk. The Inquisition cowl Aerya wore over her head obscured her face from the side, so Leliana was none the wiser to her presence as the bard approached her desk and leaned on it, flipping through a couple of papers scattered about. The rookery was mostly empty; Leliana, her, and a dwarven scout who was in the midst of leaving. Seeing her opportunity, she slowly made her way around and crept forward.

In all the times Aerya had attempted to sneak up on her lover before, this was about the point where the redhead turned, a smirk on her face, and smugly stated 'Better luck next time.' before embracing her. This time, however, she didn't seem to notice her soft approach at all. She was about half an arm's length away when she quickly moved forward, wrapping her hands around the Spymaster's waist and flipping her around, before gingerly sweeping her up with all the effort she could muster and depositing her on the table, sending papers and various other things scattering in all directions. Leliana seemed stunned briefly, reaching around as if to strike at something in shock as her hood slid off of her head...until she looked up and realized who it was. For a heartbeat, she simply lay there, stunned, the shock reflected in her blue eyes quickly vanishing as they welled up with tears of joy.

"I told you I'd catch you by surprise like that someday." Aerya cooed, smirking despite the tears of her own she felt trickling down her cheeks. Leliana let out one laugh of relief, before reaching up and pulling the elf down, wrapping her legs around her waist as their lips met - tenderly at first, before quickly becoming more desperate. What started as soft, gentle affection as they both realized they were here, together at last, quickly evolved into the pure euphoric lust of having spent five long years apart as they passionately kissed. They continued for a while, needily trying to soak up as much of each other's presence as they could with each passing second. Aerya felt Leliana's hand begin to wander up her back, pushing her closer until she was essentially off her feet and lying on the table as well. She shifted her waist up against her's, their lips never parting for more than a moment. She flipped the cowl over Aerya's head down with her other hand, letting the elf's shaggy, brownish-blonde hair flow freely down her back and dangling over her shoulder. She ran her hands through it tenderly, moaning softly as the smaller woman hungrily pushed forward even further. Aerya ran one of her hands up Leliana's midsection as she shifted onto one elbow, softly trailing up until they ran over the curve of her breasts and eventually reached her cheek.

"Not here!" Leliana giggled, separating her lips from Aerya's and pushing back slightly. The elf smiled, shifting up further and looking into her lover's blue eyes.

"What, you think the birds will care?"

Leliana laughed, tears still giving her eyes a slight shine. "I just...you're here. After...I can't believe it."

Aerya leaned forward, giving her another tender kiss as they slowly made their way off of the table and onto their feet again, before pulling her close in a soft hug. She inhaled deeply, breathing in her rosey scent.

"And I'm never leaving again," she whispered in her ear, closing her eyes as the tears flowed freely. "Not for the Calling. Not for anything."

Leliana pushed away, her hands still around her shoulders, and looked down at her hopefully. "Then...you did it."

"I did it." Aerya said, smiling, her emerald eyes shining. "Just like I said I would."

"No more nightmares?"

Aerya shook her head. "No more nightmares."

She pulled her in and embraced her yet again. She buried her head into Leliana's neck and breathed softly, tears of both joy and relief in their eyes, as they teetered in each other's arms. It still felt like a dream to both of them, one they had both been longing to become reality for years now.

"Aerya..." Leliana breathed, affectionately turning her head to plant a kiss on the top of her lover's as she held her tightly, before closing her eyes and leaning in again. For a long while, they just stood there in each other's arms, not willing to move for the world.

They were both home.

* * *

><p><strong>To be continued...<strong>


	5. The Lost Warden

**Well this was unusually difficult to write to my satisfaction. Bit shorter, this time. Hope you all enjoy it still.**

* * *

><p><strong>9:42 Dragon<strong>

This same series of events had replayed in her head many times before.

She saw Justinia. Regal, knowing, a posture that spoke of infinite wisdom. The Sunburst Throne stood behind her, radiating blinding light across what appeared to be the Grand Cathedral, making her friend and mentor seem like Andraste herself when silhouetted against it. She felt reverence. Certainty. Faith. Most of all, she felt faith.

It was around now the dream usually took a turn for the worse. It was around now where she'd feel Marjolaine's blade bury itself in her gut, where she'd feel the guard's cudgel fill her with blunt, burning pain as she was beaten...and where the holy light emanating from the throne before her would be swallowed up by encroaching darkness. The Archdemon would always break through the stained glass windows, defiling the cathedral with its corruptions like Corypheus had the Black City, and it would devour Justinia whole as she watched helplessly, unable to move her broken, bleeding body to help. Sometimes the faces of the men striking her would change, morph into faces she recognized but couldn't place. People she'd killed, people she'd ruined. Be it as a bard or as the Nightingale. It was around now she'd feel nothing but pain, betrayal, and uncertainty.

However, this time, there was nothing of the sort.

Justinia remained. The light dimmed, she was seated, and the regal, wise expression on her face was replaced by one of...regret? But she remained. No blade found its way into Leliana's gut, just a rose in her hand. One single rose, plucked from the rosebush in Lothering. She held it gently, and it seemed to be blooming before her very eyes. She expected it to wilt, to blacken and die like a Blighted creature...but it did no such thing.

"Faith, Leliana." Justinia's voice echoed through the cathedral. She was no longer on the throne, but her presence lingered. "If not faith, hope."

Faith. Hope.

* * *

><p>Leliana came to at the sound of sniffing in her ear. She blinked a few times, slowly absorbing her surroundings and realizing where she was, before turning to see a large, greying mabari hound gazing up at her from the side of the bed, panting happily.<p>

"Bellenaris?" She yawned, still only partially conscious. "How did you -"

She was silenced by the mabari lunging forward and giving her a long, sloppy lick across the side of her face. She groaned, fumbling her hand around blindly to give the dog one pat on the head, before shifting over as the massive hound plodded off happily and settled down in the corner of the room. She almost had to double take when she remembered who was lying beside her.

_Aerya. _

She was still fast asleep, moaning gently as she felt Leliana no longer pushed up against her. The Warden muttered something, shifting, but otherwise...she seemed completely peaceful. They were both still naked despite the mountain chill that seeped into the room, neither of them having wanted to bundle up after their post-lovemaking daze. After all the time they'd spent together with only a tent and a bedroll keeping them from the chilled Ferelden air, they'd both grown used to lying around in the cold anyway. A bed and a blanket still seemed like a luxury to this day.

Smiling, Leliana leaned up on her shoulder, watching her lover as she softly slept. It seemed like it had been far more than five years since they'd rested well, wrapped in each other's arms. They'd tenderly held each other for a while longer after she had taken her by surprise hours ago, before they'd stepped out into the rookery tower's exterior.

"Ma vhenan..." Aerya had said, wrapping her fingers in her's as they leaned on the stone balcony. "Justinia, I'm...so sorry."

She'd nodded solemnly.

"And I'm sorry I wasn't there. I...would have given anything to have been there for you when you needed me most."

Leliana had looked over at her without a word, tears still trickling down her cheeks. She hadn't wanted to talk about Justinia then. Later, but not then. At that moment, staring into her lover's deep emerald eyes, still twinkling slightly from leftover tears...all she'd wanted was her. All that had mattered was her. She'd leaned over, kissing her warmly, before hungrily taking her by the hands and guiding her all the way down the circular tower, ignoring the questioning looks from various members of the Inquisition as she passed, tore through the courtyard, and straight to her quarters.

They'd continued their desperate kissing there for a while, Leliana's hands beginning to wander as the Dalish elf roughly undid the straps and buckles on Leliana's spymaster garb. Various bits of both of their leather armor began to pile at their feet as they stepped out of them, never ending their relentless, desperate attack on each others lips for an instant. Soon, they both stood there, completely devoid of any coverings save their thin under-armor, and before they knew it that was gone as well. Leliana had felt goosebumps rise up on her body as naked flesh met the cold air, but the feeling rapidly dissolved as Aerya went lower, passionately kissing her neck before gingerly guiding her backward and setting her down on her bed - where her kisses ventured even lower.

And just like that, she'd felt all the pain, uncertainty and loneliness of the past five years dissipate in an instant at her lover's every touch.

The elf slept soundly now, evidently exhausted from both her travels and their...exertions. Her long, shaggy hair still stood out at all angles - Leliana had noticed it was longer than usual. She usually had it slightly beyond her upper back and draped over her shoulder, often held out of her eyes with a headband or tied back as best she could manage. She'd always liked her lover's hair, but she hadn't been kidding when she'd called it stubborn - something she was quickly made aware of when she tried to do it for her before the various gatherings they'd attended. Now, however, it was long and thick enough that Aerya didn't seem quite sure how to manage it at all, the brownish-blonde locks often flailing out in every direction wildly, her attempts to roughly smooth them down proving to be in vain.

There was a new, faint scar across her lip, joining the three that had always snaked across her cheek and onto her nose - claw marks, as Aerya had told her. Despite the undoubtedly exhausting, lonely journey she had returned from, she looked better rested than usual - the bags around her eyes that had usually betrayed her lack of sleep were noticeably absent. Other than that, she was just like she had been when she had left all those years ago. Scars, bruises and all - the Dalish elf was just as beautiful as she remembered.

Before all of this, she'd often awake and watch Aerya sleep to see a troubled expression on her face. Oftentimes she'd be tossing and turning, muttering uncomfortably in her sleep, sometimes violently lurching up or shifting side to side unless Leliana held her tightly - but there was none of that now. The elf slept completely soundly, her breaths long and even, her expression calm. She wasn't sure if it was her presence or the lack of the taint that made it such. Maybe both. Leliana knew _she'd_ slept better than she had in years, her lover held close against her at last. Her mind felt more at ease than it had in ages, as if the overpowering weight bearing down on it had become light as a feather. Over the last few years, she'd had many parts of her violently ripped away. Some of the emptiness they left in their wake would never be filled again. But at least one had returned, and for now, that was all that mattered to her. All she needed.

Smiling, she gently ran her fingers down her lover's exposed shoulder. Scars remained from where she'd attempted to tear her Blighted marks out in her panic that night, long ago, but the marks themselves were gone. As were all of them. She'd nearly started crying again when she'd seen it - in the places where there were once black, tainted flesh, there was simply the same tantalizingly smooth, olive-hued skin she was running her hands down now. A smile on her face, misty eyed, she'd kissed each and every spot where the Blight used to be profusely.

Leliana heard Aerya softly moan again as her hands trailed down further, slipping under the sheets and gliding down her side. The elf began to shift slightly as the bard's hands wrapped around her waist and reached her navel, eventually pushing back and putting herself as close to her as she could. Leliana smiled, wrapped her hands around her chest, and planted a long kiss on the back of her lover's head as she breathed in her minty scent. For a while, they simply lay there, Leliana holding Aerya close as she slowly awoke.

Eventually, she felt her begin to shift in her arms as she came to fully. Slowly, she moved over, rolling onto her back and blinking awake.

"Good morning, you." Leliana said, smiling warmly.

"Good morning yourself." Aerya replied, rubbing her eyes.

"Sleep well?" Leliana asked, giving her a few kisses on the shoulder as she settled down on her side again, and wrapped her arms around her.

The elf smiled as the bard pulled closer, still seeming slightly groggy and shutting her eyes. "Better than I have in years."

"No dreams?"

Aerya smiled wider, rolling over onto her side as well and shifting closer so their faces nearly met. "Just the one." She started, yawning. "There was this beautiful redheaded woman in it. I showed up in her castle and swept her off her feet, and we eventually -"

Leliana giggled, cutting her off with a tender kiss. "Oh, stop it you." She said, smiling as her lover drowsily kissed her back. They parted after a minute, their faces still mere inches apart.

"I mean the Warden dreams," Leliana continued. "They're gone?"

Aerya nodded, her eyes finally flickering open fully to stare at her across their pillow. "It's...taking some getting used to."

"I can only imagine."

"It's been so long, hearing voices in my head every night..." Aerya sighed. "For a while, out there, it got...especially violent. I wasn't sure if I was going to survive another week, being afraid to even close my eyes..."

Leliana held her lover's arm tightly as she continued, suddenly seeming distant.

"The song in my head...I can hear it. It's not there, but...it is. I can remember it. After a while, you _want_ to hear it. The call..." She shut her eyes again, seeming pained as she shook her head. "But I shut it out. When I was just a girl, I had nightmares all the time. About...everything, it seemed. Sometimes I'd wake up in the middle of the night and alert the entire camp with my screaming...Ashalle would tell me that whatever happened in my head couldn't hurt unless I let it. So...I didn't. Now...now there's nothing in my head that _could_ hurt. It's just...silence."

Leliana frowned, the concern on her face palpable. "You're saying...no dreams at all."

Aerya sighed again, seeming confused. "I don't know. Sometimes there's...something. Maybe my mind is just reeling from being cut off from what was whispering in it for so long now. Maybe I just don't remember any of the dreams I have, because they're so...ordinary, now."

Leliana continued to stroke her arm as she spoke. "Either way...it's done. The taint, the Calling...all of it. Whatever problems that means down the line, they're more than made up for by the benefits. I..." She laughed slightly, as if she had only now wrapped her head around it all. "I suppose I have all the time in the world, now. That's...a strange thought."

The distant look behind her eyes faded as she focused on her again, nothing but affection in her green orbs. Her elven eyes seemed to glow as the faint light reached them, as they often did. "And I know exactly how I'm going to spend that time."

Leliana smiled. "There's nothing on this earth that I would like more."

The pulled in close for another long kiss. It still felt like a dream to both of them, their hands wandering up and down each other's bodies as if to make sure they were real. They_ were_ real, and right now, their legs wrapped up together and their waists pushed close, they fit together like pieces of a puzzle. This was where they were meant to be.

"You're still wearing it." Leliana heard Aerya mutter softly, as they finally parted. It took her a moment to realize what she was talking about, before she looked down at her lover's hands trailing over her chest, gently lifting up the halla-adorned amulet dangling there. It glowed a faint purple color at the touch, as it often did.

"I never took it off." She said tenderly, putting her hand to her chest and intertwining it with Aerya's. "But...you should have it back."

Aerya seemed to ponder it for a moment, staring at the halla carvings running up the ironbark amulet, the faint purple sheen rippling across them, seeming lost in the lights as they flickered...but then she looked up, smiling gently. "You should keep it."

Leliana raised an eyebrow. "It's your father's."

"And now it's yours." She ran her hands over it one last time, before raising them up and stroking Leliana's face. "Represents us, I suppose. Chantry band around your finger, Dalish pendant around your neck...plus, it looks good on you." She added the last bit with a bittersweet smirk.

Leliana shifted from where she lay, sitting up. "You're sure?" She asked, touched.

"Positive."

With that, Aerya put her head on her chest, and they simply sat there, wrapped in each other's arms. No one spoke for some time as morning light began to make its way into the room, both of them simply enjoying the other's presence.

* * *

><p>Aerya awoke a few hours later, her head still rested against Leliana's bosom, listening to her steady heartbeat. It was obviously morning now, the early light seeping through the small holes in the wall and dimly illuminating Leliana's small chambers. Groaning slightly, stiff and groggy, she lifted her head to see Leliana fast asleep again, having evidently dozed off. Her head was still tipped to one side, having been rested on top of Aerya's moments earlier. Now that she'd moved away, the spymaster blinked awake.<p>

"What time is it?" She yawned. Aerya shrugged in response.

"No idea." She replied, rubbing the last bit of sleep from her eyes. "Don't care much, either. I'd be content lying around all day to be honest."

Leliana smiled, letting out a small giggle. "As would I. You didn't exactly announce your arrival, however, everyone's probably wondering -"

As if on cue, she was interrupted by a heavy knock on the door. "Leliana?" A gruff voice called through, followed by more firm knocks. "Are you all right? It's almost noon-hour."

"We're fine, Cullen!" Leliana called back.

"_We're?_"

"I'll explain later!"

She sighed, rubbing her eyes, as Aerya glanced at her questioningly. "Cullen?"

"Remember him?" She said. "From the Circle Tower? Seems like so long ago, now."

Aerya nodded slowly. "Right. He's here?"

"He was one of our founding members." She explained, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position. "We recruited him from Kirkwall, to be our military adviser for Justinia's...well..." She trailed off, a pained expression on her face.

Aerya reached forward and brushed her cheek, smiling softly. "Are you ready to talk now?"

Leliana looked up at her, a dash of sadness in her blue eyes, before she nodded slowly. "I...there was a note, after her death. She died thinking she'd failed me. That she'd...used me."

"Used you?"

"She knew I wanted away from it all." She sighed, closing her eyes. "The violence, the murder, the deception...but she brought me back into it. She knew the pain it caused me before, but...she brought me back."

Aerya squeezed her arm slightly. "That's what you didn't want to tell me about? Whenever we visited, what always seemed to be troubling you?"

Leliana nodded grimly. "You showed me all those years ago that I was better than that. That I could acknowledge who I was before while still going forward. While still being better." She said solemnly, not quite looking at her. "I...I failed you. I didn't want to tell you, I didn't want you to see that I was right back where I was before. I wanted it to be my burden alone...but I realize now it shouldn't have been. You've always been there to show me things from another perspective, to provide a listening ear and words of comfort...you've always been willing to share in my burdens, always _wanted_ to. But I pushed you away."

She looked back up at her, sadness etched across her face. "And then...and then you had to leave, and it was too late. I'm sorry. Maker, I'm sorry."

"Leliana..." Aerya whispered affectionately, leaning forward and giving her a quick kiss. "I understood. Maybe I was hurt, but I understood - and it's not too late to start over. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere ever again. I mean it."

Leliana smiled weakly, but it was quickly flushed away. "But _Justinia_ isn't here. She died thinking she ruined me - and all those skills she knew I had...I failed her even then."

"You didn't fail anyone, Leliana." Aerya said firmly, looking her straight in the eye. "There was nothing you could have done. If you were with her, you would be dead as well. Justinia wouldn't want that. She wouldn't want you tearing yourself up about it all afterwards either, or to lose faith."

There was a brief silence, Leliana seeming to ponder.

"She released me." She muttered. "At Valence. She sent me back there. She wanted me to...'lay down my burdens.'"

"Then lay down your burdens." Aerya said, her comforting hand moving back up to her shoulder. "And look forward. I'll be with you _every_ step of the way. We can start over - just you, and me."

She looked away again, still seeming uncertain.

"Aerya...I almost slipped." Leliana sighed, shaking her head. "I...I came _so_ close to falling right back to where I dread to go again. I..."

Leliana couldn't help but smile weakly as Aerya shifted forward in response, straddling the bard around the waist and looking her firmly in the eye. The sheets fell off of her as she did so, exposing her entirely to the bitter-cold air, but she didn't seem to mind. "But you didn't. You may not always see it, but you are the most passionate, skilled, dedicated, and _beautiful_ woman I have ever met, ma vhenan. You know I didn't always agree with your faith, but I admired you _so_ much for it. It's one of the reasons I love you - and it's one of the reasons I _know_ you won't slip."

The beginnings of tears welling up in her eyes, Leliana slid her hands up her elven lover's back, pulling her close and kissing her softly. "I love you, so much."

Aerya smiled, kissing her back passionately. "I love you too. Ma emma sa'lath, ma vhenan'ara, until the stars go dim, and time ends."

They stayed where they were for some time, in spite of the hour growing late. In that moment, nothing else mattered. No one else mattered.

"Say, I almost forgot." Aerya suddenly exclaimed, rising up from the bed and jumping to her feet, dancing across the cold floor hurriedly.

"Hmm?" Leliana said, raising an eyebrow as she watched her go, not so subtly ogling her from behind as she reached for her large pack piled up in the corner of the room.

"I got you something." She said, smiling as she pulled out a bundled package.

"You being here is more than enough."

Aerya giggled slightly, in a tone quite unlike her usually stoic demeanor, and turned to make her way back to the bedside. "Oh, come on. I missed the last five Wintersends. I'll be damned if I missed another. Sorry if I'm late."

She set the package down on Leliana's lap, jumping up onto the bed again to squeeze in close beside her. Glancing at her, smiling, Leliana cast aside the wrappings and lifted it open. Inside was a lute - smooth, perfectly crafted and without a single imperfection on its surface. It seemed to shine slightly, somewhere between metal and wood. Running her finger down it, she could recognize the material. Ironbark.

"Aerya," Leliana breathed, her smile widening. "It's beautiful."

The elf gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Figured you may need a new one."

"I..." She laughed, gingerly picking it up from the box and balancing it in her hands, a nostalgic expression on her face. "It's been quite some time."

"I'm willing to bet you do it just as beautifully as before." Aerya said, resting her head on the bard's shoulder as she strummed at the smooth, wooden instrument. Before she knew it, Leliana was fully immersed in her song, playing a beautiful tune while humming the elvish words softly. She used to always play the elven songs she knew and had picked up for her, some of them being ones she'd heard from Hahren Paivel initially. She remembered being touched at the thought that a human would go out of her way to learn for her.

It was a hopeful melody, a dash of sadness behind it, but a tone of a bright future woven into every note. Smiling as she closed her eyes and listened, she knew she was home.

* * *

><p>When the two of them finally emerged back into Skyhold, they were almost immediately greeted by fanfare. Some people had seen the arrival of the mysterious elven woman sweeping away their spymaster, and rumor was quite obviously aflutter. Everyone and their dog had heard the stories about the Hero of Ferelden and her Nightingale - there was only one person it could be. The lost Warden, long thought gone from this world, perhaps forever. Some of the younger recruits had only been children during the Blight, having grown up on stories of her. Most of them knew better than to probe the Spymaster with questions, but it seemed that more than a couple had during her time here. Now she was <em>here.<em>

"So much for secrecy." Aerya muttered, as she glanced at the excited crowd gathering and chattering down below the battlements.

Leliana smiled, taking her hand in her own. "Come, they don't bite."

Gritting her teeth, Aerya nodded, and allowed Leliana to take her down the stone steps and into the courtyard. The small sea of people looked up at them now, some young men and women going wide-eyed as they saw them. Aerya didn't imagine she looked particularly heroic or imposing right now - dressed in her simple, worn leather pants and an undershirt, her shaggy hair only just brushed out of her eyes and hanging over her shoulder, something that had taken a lot of fighting with and more than a bit of assistance from Leliana, one of her swords haphazardly slung over her shoulder...it was a far cry from the shining Warden-Commander regalia she used to appear in, riding in on the back of her horse with her dark blue cloak and plume waving in the wind behind her. She wasn't exactly Warden-Commander of anything anymore, however.

If that was what the assembled men and women before her expected, however, they showed no sign of it. Their eyes were still wide, excited murmurs drifted through the crowd.

"That's her!" One of them called. "The Hero of Ferelden! She's returned!"

Aerya nodded as she finished descending the steps and walked out into the courtyard.

_"My mum said she was dead, but I knew better!"_

_"Nothing coulda killed her!"_

_"Where was she when the Wardens were making trouble?"_

_"She could'a stopped 'em, if anyone could."_

"Andraste's dimpled butt-cheeks." A gravelly voice called out, standing out over the others. A beardless, blonde-haired dwarf approached, dressed in a fine, red silk shirt buttoned down to reveal an abundance of chest hair. "So the rabble wasn't full of shit after all. The Hero of Ferelden_ is_ back."

"People seem to recognize me fast." Aerya said, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Ah, that's what happens with people like you." The dwarf chuckled. "Varric Tethras. I probably have something to do with that. My livelihood is _based_ upon talking up folks like you and our Herald of Andraste, giving them unwanted attention. You know how it is."

"Hmph," Aerya grunted, smirking slightly despite herself. "I need to stop talking to storytellers." She shot a playful glance at Leliana.

"I've read all her stories too. Impressive stuff. Crazy, some of it too crazy even for me to believe, but impressive all the same." Varric laughed. "You're lucky the Seeker isn't here anymore, she'd be begging for an autograph. Might just have to write something about you myself, now. I heard you made quite the...entrance. You've got a sense for the romantic, it seems - I can work with that." He smirked at Leliana, who couldn't help but laugh.

"If you want details, you're not getting them." The bard replied, chuckling.

"Ah, competitor's secrets. I understand. I'd probably get killed for knowing too much anyway."

The crowd was still murmuring excitedly, new arrivals bolstering their ranks rapidly. _"Where was she all these years?"_ Some of them whispered, casting glances at her.

_"Why didn't she help?"_

_"The Hero of Ferelden wasn't there for Ferelden..." _

Sighing, the Dalish elf and former Warden-Commander turned to the crowd. They silenced themselves quickly as she looked on, sternly.

"People," She began, raising her voice as much as she could manage. "I wish I could have been there, to calm things with the Wardens, yes. But I was far from here, on business of my own. I was even _before_ this all started, as you well know. I haven't been Commander of the Grey for _years_ now. Even when I was, I knew in my heart it wasn't the life for me. Warden-Commander? _Arl of Amaranthine?_ I'm sure some of you have heard of my...er, court skill. I fit in with the Landsmeet about as much as a genlock fits in at an Orlesian masquerade."

There were a few knowing chuckles.

"You might see the Hero of Ferelden still. That's fine. It's a good story. A good ideal. I like to think I managed to bring hope in a dark time. But I'm not sure if I've been that for _years_ now. Maybe there's still more in store for me. The Creators, the Maker, whoever - they work in interesting ways. But right now, I'm just a woman with more luck than she knows what to do with, and one with options - and one of those...is to say I'm sorry for not being there. But I'm not sure what I would have done even if I was. And right now...I just want out."

She unsheathed the shining, runed sword on her back, _Vigilance_, and buried it in the ground with a grunt. "May your gods watch over you all."

She half-expected a roar of voices from the assembled soldiers, but instead there was just silence. A few were nodding to themselves, their expressions almost seeming understanding. "Maker watch over you, my lady." She heard a few of them call, as she turned back to Leliana.

"Well," The bard said, the beginnings of a smile creeping up on her lips. "That's one way to announce retirement, I suppose."

"I'll say." Varric chuckled from beside her, turning to make his way out of the courtyard. "Could tell you didn't rehearse, though. You have no escape plan either. This is about the part where you're supposed to disappear again."

She smiled as the dwarf left, looking back at Leliana. "Retirement is probably the wrong word." She giggled. "Knowing you and me, I'm sure there'll be _something._"

"At least we'll be together for it, whatever comes up." She took her hands in hers, leaning in to kiss her.

"To the ends of the earth." The elf breathed, looking up at her affectionately. "Just like I promised."

Leliana smiled warmly, holding her close. "This time..." She whispered, sighing contentedly as she closed her eyes and breathed in. "This time, after everything that has happened...I believe you."

* * *

><p><em><strong>To be continued... (concluded?)<strong>_

_**As usual, thanks everyone for reading and reviewing. Hope I provided a fix of warm fuzzies. And didn't cross the boundaries of my T rating too much. Yikes.**_

_**Now...the next...yep, that's not the last thing I wanted to do. Seems like it, but...an epilogue of sorts is warranted, I guess.**_


	6. Starry Nights

_**Sorry for the unusually long delay. I grow more nitpicky about my own writing as time goes on, it seems. Hope it wasn't too long.**_

* * *

><p><strong>9:42 Dragon<strong>

It was a couple of months until Leliana and Aerya actually left Skyhold.

As it happened, passing the reins on an entire spy network took time. For the next little while, Leliana worked tirelessly each day to tie up loose ends, make sure any unfinished business that might come back to her was over and done with, and generally cleaned up her plate in preparation for her departure, and the shifting of command from her to one of her most trusted operatives. It was evidently tiresome work, and Aerya often wandered up to the rookery to find her collapsed face-first on her desk, forcing her to collect the weary spymaster and guide her to her quarters, where she lay her down to quickly fall asleep again before her head even hit the pillow. The former Warden-Commander stayed close at hand for the grueling process, helping where she could, but spent most of her time down in the courtyard helping Commander Cullen keep the soldiers well trained. She provided some interesting feedback and tips, and they were evidently still inspired by her mere presence. No matter how many retirement speeches she made, there was no way around that.

It was an interesting 'reunion' between Aerya and and the former Templar - the two had only met briefly, but Cullen evidently regretted the fact that he'd never properly expressed his gratitude for saving him at the Circle, and apologized profusely for his belligerence that day. Aerya had shrugged, saying the past is the past, and went on to help him with the Inquisition army's drills. The two actually found themselves getting along rather well afterwards.

She got on quite well with more than a few members of the Inquisition, in fact; she'd been pleased to see Leliana's friend Josephine again. Despite the short amount of time they'd known each other beforehand, she'd rather liked the Antivan ambassador, finding her exceptionally respectful and enjoyable to be around - and as she vaguely remembered, the _reason_ it seemed like they'd only known each other for such a short time was because Aerya had gotten terribly drunk during most of the receptions they'd gone to, awkwardly. Or embarrassed her with her terrible dancing skill.

She'd caught up with Varric more, as well; as it happened, the dwarven storyteller knew about her beyond just the tales. He'd been good friends with Merrill, her former clanmate and one of her closest childhood friends - he told her she'd spoken of her often, and seemed to miss her even more than she'd expected. She was grateful for the smallest bit of news, as she'd been silently nosing around for any scrap of info on her clan for ages now. To her great dismay, however, it ended up that Marethari was dead and Merrill exiled - news which had kept her down for the next couple of days, even after all this time. Luckily for her, Leliana was there, and she found it difficult to keep her spirits down for long because of it. Sleeping every night with her pressed up against her, hearing her voice and holding her close every single day...all things considered, Aerya was still the happiest she had ever been in her life.

Leliana mentioned Morrigan, as well. At first, Aerya had been shocked to hear of her again. She remembered asking the raven-haired woman if she'd ever see her again, to the cryptic response of _'Not if you're fortunate.._.' In retrospect, however, she figured she shouldn't be surprised. Change is coming to the world, she had said. It would be _more_ surprising if the witch never surfaced again, even in the face of that change. She was surprised to hear her old friend had actually wished her and Leliana well, and about how she had supposedly changed for the better, raising her child as a well-mannered, polite boy - something which Aerya couldn't help but feel a small tinge of pride upon hearing. She only regretted the fact that she herself was likely never going to see her again. In spite of their differences, she'd grown to regard her as a sister, and she her. Even with their meeting in the Dragonbone Wastes, all those years ago...there was still a lingering sense of unfinished business on that particular chapter in her life. One that she sadly realized was probably never going to be concluded.

But with the thought that one chapter may be left unfinished, she couldn't shake the feeling that an entirely new one was beginning for her. She was free of the Taint forever. No longer would she have to stay up at night, staring at the roof and wistfully thinking about a normal life once again. No longer would every passing moment of her dreaming be haunted by the Blight's call. No longer would she have to grit her teeth as she struggled in vain to shut out the harrowing chant echoing through her skull. She was free of the mesmerizing chorus that chained her to the Darkspawn, for good. She'd given more than enough to the Wardens. She'd sacrificed nearly everything the moment she'd put her lips to the chalice and drank. Some may look unkindly upon her, but she didn't care. She'd pass her knowledge on to them, and then be done with it.

And most of all, she was with the woman she loved above all else. The woman she'd gladly spend the entirety of her newfound time with, and never have to be parted from again. It had been a difficult, lonely five years spent by herself on the road - but now that was over and done, and she was whole again. They were both older now, wearier, perhaps wiser - but all things considered it felt like it had after the Blight. A world of opportunity before them, one that they'd face head-on and side by side. Except this time, it was without the knowledge of her eventual early grave hovering over their heads. She saw the look in her eyes whenever she entered the room - the years of separation had been just as hard on her as it had on Aerya, perhaps more so. The strain that she had so often seen behind her lover's eyes was rapidly diminishing, but it was always there, somewhere. Lingering in the corners of her eyes like the tainted whispers had in her mind.

She knew how much Leliana had suffered her whole life. Her mother had died so early she had no memory of her beyond the most basic things. Her mother's master, Cecile, never saw her as a daughter. While she had evidently been a kind woman, Leliana made it sound like the elderly noble had seen the young half-Ferelden girl as a source of amusement rather than a surrogate child. Marjolaine had twisted and corrupted her from the moment she'd met her, fashioning the young, impressionable girl into a sharpened blade that had stayed part of her, whether she liked it or not, her entire life. She'd called her 'pretty thing,' and Aerya could tell she'd used her from the start.

Now, it appeared even Justinia had exploited her for her skills. She had no doubt the kindly woman had never wanted to harm her, or use her...but she had, to her great regret. Once again, Leliana had been seen as a tool to be used. An asset. The blade that had been fashioned by Marjolaine had met the grindstone, despite Leliana's resistance to it. Being treated as a disposable tool, used for her abilities and not her heart for _so long_ now had made her dangerously prone to being manipulated, swayed one way...and even if she'd been trying to help, Aerya had done it too, once.

Despite that, however, she liked to think she was one of the few people that had ever treated her like she was a person. She hadn't fallen in love with the former lay sister for her skill with a blade, bow or the bardic arts. She had for the inherent faith, compassion and beauty that she _knew_ was a part of her, even if Leliana herself couldn't see them. She hoped she helped with that - and judging by the cloud of uncertainty that seemed to clear up behind her lover's blue eyes every time Aerya said 'I love _you_,' she believed she did. She often heard murmurs of how much 'Sister Nightingale' terrified some of the Inquisition, how her eyes_ 'stared into your soul.'_ Aerya didn't see 'Sister Nightingale,' however. She saw Leliana. She saw the beautiful woman that was the love of her life.

And nothing made her happier than the thought that she could restore her lover's hope and faith in herself with words alone. That she still had that effect, even after all these years apart.

Despite the tedious work that needed doing, the following weeks went by swiftly. Any lingering stress from the work involved or built up over the last five years was quickly relieved at the end of each day, making each night flow into the following morning smoother and easier than ever. It almost seemed like she'd only arrived at the imposing mountain fortress yesterday when her and Leliana were saying their farewells to the rest of the Inquisition.

Cullen and the others had nodded their respectful partings, and Josephine had given both of them a warm hug, making them promise to visit from time to time. They planned to. Maybe it would be a while, but they had no doubt this farewell was only temporary. Rough as they were, the Inquisition Leliana had helped build up was a family, of sorts. Rag-tag, dysfunctional, but a family nonetheless. Aerya had grown fond of them too - but, once again, the road called to both of them. Just like it had so long ago; but this time, it was for as long as it would have them.

"Where will you two go now?" Josephine had asked, only just letting her free of her hug.

Leliana glanced at Aerya with a smirk, and the elf smiled back. "I suppose we'll figure that out when we get there." Aerya had said, shifting her pack further up her shoulder - and with that, they'd turned, pausing for one last bittersweet wave back to the assembled Inquisition, and gone on their way. A few weeks had passed now, and they'd descended the Frostbacks east into Ferelden again, bound for Denerim. Aerya had wanted to drop in and visit Alistair before they departed for who-knows-where, share her findings with him, and no doubt apologize for the scare she'd given him after vanishing off the face of Thedas five years ago. She owed her old friend that much.

Winter was in the slow process of making way for spring, green finally beginning to nose its way through the thick blanket of ice and snow that had covered the entire south for months now. They were at the foot of the Frostbacks, a few days down the road from Orzammar, and at the mouth of Lake Calenhad. An encroaching wave of morning fog floated above the forest Aerya crept through now, feeling the morning dew underneath her feet as she silently stalked forward. The sound of the rushing river flowing into the nearby lake masked her footsteps as they grazed over the underbrush, and she made her way into the nearby gully without so much as a sound.

The forest at the foot of the towering mountains looming in the distance stretched for some ways, following one of the many streams winding down the slopes and flowing into Lake Calenhad. Leliana and Aerya had set up camp at the end of the rushing water, in a small inlet providing a decent place for washing and refilling. The water was much too cold to stay in, but they'd attempted it regardless, immediately skipping out with a screech as soon as they were submerged, and huddling by the fire for a whole hour afterwards. Wasn't a wise idea, in retrospect. But at least it woke her up from the exhausting trek. Something which came in handy as she scanned the underbrush, absent-mindedly nocking an arrow as she did so.

She crouched down low as she spotted movement in the brush on the other side of the gully. She'd been in these woods before, long ago - one of the many places her clan had set camp in, which had given her plenty of time to grow accustomed to her surroundings. Things changed over the years, obviously, but she could remember landmarks. An abundance of berries grew along the small clearing between the dried-up offshoot and the river itself, a place where deer flocked to in troves. Her memory held true - as soon as she stalked into the clearing, despite being well upwind and silent as a cat, a mature buck's head shot up from where it was eating. Its eyes darted around the underbrush suspiciously, until it lowered its head again moments later and continued its feeding session.

Inhaling, Aerya pulled back on the bowstring, lined up her shot...and watched with a curse as her arrow veered far to the left. The buck shot off in the other direction almost immediately, the white underside of its tail eventually vanishing into the blooming thicket.

_"Fenedhis."_ Aerya spat, gripping her bow tightly in frustration as she watched it tear off and out of sight. Ever since the final battle of the Blight, where the Archdemon had caught her clean across the left arm and severely broken it, she'd had considerable difficulty with anything that made use of it. Whereas she'd originally been able to use two swords in unison, showing the impressive amounts of skill and concentration the Dalish had taught her, the dexterity of her left arm had been ruined that day. Swordplay, archery, she'd been forced to adjust all of them, never quite getting the same results, _especially_ with the latter. Not that her bow work had ever been anything to write home about, really. Even before her injury, archery wasn't something that came naturally to her - she was exceptionally skilled at tracking and had been one of the most promising swordsmen in her clan, but any arrow she fired seemed to soar off course or go straight over her target's head. Tamlen, and later Leliana, had often tried to help her improve, but it had almost always been in vain. Now she felt as if she wouldn't be able to hit an Archdemon from two paces away.

_Behold, the legendary marksmanship of the Dalish. Fear me and despair, dirty shems._ Aerya thought to herself bitterly. She rose to her feet, making her way over to a distant tree stump to collect the arrow now lodged in it. She heard footsteps plodding through the underbrush as she yanked it from the bark indignantly, turning to see Leliana approaching with a smile on her face. She was clad in her usual ornate, Orlesian-embroidered leather armor, all bundled up in her worn, fur-lined travelling cloak to hold off the chilly mountain air.

"Good hunt?" The former spymaster asked, giving her a quick kiss. Three beige rabbits hung from her belt, displayed like proud trophies; all the tracking and hunting lessons she'd given her during the Blight had evidently stayed with her. Leliana had always seemed to dislike the fact that Aerya alone was responsible for their hunting duty, during their year-long trek back and forth across Ferelden. The Dalish Hunter hadn't minded that, really - it had given her much needed time to herself, and more often than not she'd found herself with all the game she needed before the first hour was even done, spending the rest of her time away from the others. She'd settle down in the first clearing she could find, and simply listened to the birds, the wind, and the silence.

She'd done that even when she was with her clan, sometimes. Solitude was something Aerya cherished dearly - but she'd grown fond of Leliana early on during their time together, even if she didn't admit it until later. She hadn't been bothered at all by her settling down next to her as she would lay down in a clearing, staring up at the stars all night. Sometimes Leliana would recite stories about a particular star cluster, and Aerya would simply listen, getting lost in the soothing melody of her voice.

They'd shared their first kiss on a night like that, she fondly recalled.

"Oh yes, excellent hunt." Aerya muttered dryly, bitterly sliding the arrow back into her quiver. "I've been tracking this damned tree stump for ages. Slippery beast. You should have seen how it fell, glorious. We'll be fed for _weeks_."

Leliana raised an eyebrow, giggling slightly. "Mhm."

Aerya glanced at her, finally sighing and shaking her head. "Still can't shoot to save my life."

"That's still bothering you?" Leliana asked, shouldering her bow and gesturing for her to follow.

Aerya grunted, twitching her left arm as if trying to shake it back into place. "A little." She sighed. "A lot."

"I can see what I can do." Leliana said, rubbing her lover's shoulder as they made their way through the woods in the direction of their small camp, nestled in the inlet curving off of the lake. "Give you some pointers again."

Aerya shrugged as they shimmied over an uprooted tree stump, which provided a bridge across the river. The cold, rushing water licked at their feet as they did so. "Not sure if it can be helped."

It was about a thirty minute trek back to camp, most of it spent chattering between each other. Aerya threw her pack up onto a small rock face, and offered her hands to boost Leliana up to the ledge. She leaned on her shoulder as gently as possible, and Aerya grunted with effort as she pushed up with her still-strained arm. The former bard grasped onto the ledge, and began scrambling up gracefully. Aerya watched her as she went, skillfully scaling the small, slippery surface like it was nothing. Before she knew it, her eyes were wandering as she gazed straight up at her.

"What are you staring at?" Leliana called out suggestively through her effort, as if sensing where her eyes were.

"Hmm, it's foggy." Aerya replied, giggling slightly. "What _else_ am I supposed to stare at?"

Leliana smiled as she stretched her arm down, Aerya leaping up and taking it before scaling the wall herself.

They arrived at their camp a few minutes later, little more than a tent nestled underneath an overhanging tree. It was getting darker now, the sun dipping below the horizon and sending an amber-hued ripple across the still waters, the spectacle accompanied by little noise save the gentle waves and the serene, distant sound of birdsong as the day came to a close. Bellenaris raised his head as they approached, wagging his stumpy tail and barking happily. Eventually he plodded off to his corner to curl up and doze off, relieved of his watch duty. Sighing slightly, Aerya set her bow down against the tent along with her other gear, as Leliana undid the plump rabbits from her belt and settled down to start the fire.

They were shifting cooking duty between them - another thing quite different from the Blight, where it had been primarily her and Morrigan preparing every meal. Leliana had offered, however. Even if she would have gladly done it herself. So thus, she smiled as she settled down on the ground beside the newly-lit flames, watching as Leliana skilfully prepared a stew. The steady heat quickly washed over her, immediately easing the prickling cold on her fingers and toes.

After a couple of minutes, Leliana smiled as she finished her stew, and for a while the two of them simply sat in contented silence, gazing out over the lake, watching as the gentle waves rippled with the warm light as the sun fell beneath the horizon...and in that moment, Aerya felt more at ease than she had in recent memory. Pushed up close to Leliana, their proximity generating heat along with their tight furs wrapped around them, she leaned over, and rested her head in the crook of Leliana's neck. She closed her eyes, breathing softly and soaking up her presence. Leliana smiled, giving her a kiss on the top of her head, before snuggling in close herself and closing her own eyes.

It was a peace Aerya had been sure she wouldn't feel again.

* * *

><p>Stark, desolate wasteland...as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but...nothing.<p>

A neigh-constant wind swept over the slight hills, blowing up sand and lifting it over long stretches of desert before coming down to the ground again, often blowing up against her coat and making her squint as it barraged against her face. There was silence; an uncomfortable amount of silence, all around. The eerie howl of the wind, echoing across the lonely expanse like the screech of a wraith, was the only sound one could hear for miles. Miles, upon miles, upon miles, for what seemed like months, years even...with nothing but barren wasteland in every direction you looked. There were times where she'd wondered if she was even walking west any more at all, if she was actually making progress or fruitlessly walking in circles...it was difficult to tell. The familiar star patterns twinkling in the sky at night were the only reassurance she had - and the only thing telling her she was even in Thedas anymore. The only similarity between home and the alien world she found herself in now.

There was a small, murky blur in the distance; an outline of a person, perhaps. Or anything. A landmark. Either way, it would be the first she'd seen in ages now. She plodded forward through the sand almost animatedly, raising an arm to shield her eyes from the blinding sun as she fought to make out what she was looking at. As she approached, she began to make out armor. Shining, glistening silver armor, a griffon-emblazoned cloak blowing in the wind behind it. It was a human man; tall, dark skinned, inky black hair tied back elegantly and a short beard framing his weathered features.

"Duncan?" Aerya asked, still fighting against the blinding light, which was now accentuated by the shine of his armor.

"...from this moment forward, Aerya, _you_ are a Grey Warden." Duncan continued what he had been saying, not glancing over at the confused elf for one moment. He started to walk off, never acknowledging her in the slightest.

"Duncan! Wait!" She tore after him, but even when she began to jog the man seemed to be going faster than her. Before she knew it, he was a distant blur on the horizon again, despite her fruitless attempts to catch up...and then he was gone. Was this a trick? A hallucination? She shook her head, falling to her knees and glancing around her surroundings in panic. Nothing. Nothing but emptiness once again.

"Hold on, I just want to take a closer look."

She spun around to see Tamlen, gingerly approaching the foreboding mirror with a look of curiosity on his face. "Tamlen!" She shouted. "Don't"

He ignored her as she staggered towards him. "Don't, please don't touch-" She put her hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him around...but she never made contact. She was now flailing her hands out at thin air, nothing but wind between her fingers. He was gone.

Crying out in anger and frustration, she dropped to her knees again, stumbling over and curling up into a ball as she tried to stop herself. This was all a trick. Nobody was here. She was the only living soul for miles, it had been that way for years. No one was here, or anywhere _near_ here.

She wasn't sure if the thought brought comfort or _more_ distress.

She felt a strong, steel boot collide with her spine. Grunting, she looked up from her fetal position...but once again, no one was anywhere nearby. "Someone?" She cried out weakly, slowly rising to her feet.

"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked, and do not falter." A familiar voice whispered distantly. She spun around immediately to see Leliana, crouched with her back turned to her. "...blessed are the peacekeepers, the lights in the shadow."

"Leliana!" The relief in Aerya's voice was palpable as she rushed forward, crouching down to embrace her lover warmly...but instead she found herself face-first in the sand again, not even a mark in the dust to show the red-headed bard was ever there at all.

She cried out once again, sand coursing through her fingers and caking against her face as she lay on the ground, tears beginning to darken the sand. The knot of loneliness began to tie up in her stomach, threatening to suffocate her. She was alone. She was always going to be alone.

* * *

><p>Aerya's eyes blinked open with a start, to the familiar sound of wind battering against the leather tent. She was sweating in spite of the cold that reached her even through the furs she was bundled in, and it took her a few moments to steady her breathing. There was a knot that lingered in her stomach; a dull, constant ache and longing, becoming more and more pronounced as she came to fully. She felt empty. Lost. Alone. Above all else, alone. Still sucking in slightly labored breaths, she shifted up and reached her hand behind her...to find nothing.<p>

The longing feeling suffocating her from the inside was joined by one of distress as she turned. The spot next to her on her bedroll, where she'd expected to see Leliana's sleeping form, was vacant. The furs were neat and orderly, hardly a single wrinkle on the bedroll, as if nobody had ever been there at all. She turned in every direction, as if expecting to find out that she had simply overlooked her somewhere else. Nothing.

"Leliana...?" She called out cautiously, not wanting to get her hopes up. Not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment if everything she thought had happened was just a dream, and she was alone again. Completely, and utterly alone. Just like she had been for five long, terrible years.

There was no answer.

Feeling the knot in her gut tighten further, she slowly rose to her feet, grabbing one of the fur blankets to wrap around herself for warmth. She was gone. All the bliss, peace and happiness she'd felt...it had been a lie fabricated by her longing mind. A cruel joke. She stumbled out of the tent, feeling completely lifeless and purposeless as she budged her way through the tent flap and into the cool air. It was still dark, the stars only just beginning to fade as the smallest glimmer of light returned to the world, the milky white band streaking across the sky beginning to dissipate from view. A few embers sparkled now and then in the now dormant fire, and the water was completely and utterly still, as if it was merely a mirror reflecting the sea of stars above it. A few crickets were the only breaks in the otherwise perfect silence.

It had been a dream. All of it.

She closed her eyes, soaking in the silence and breathing deeply. She felt the unrelenting pangs of loneliness forcing tears into her eyes, when she heard footsteps delicately picking through the underbrush behind her. She turned her head slowly, half-expecting it to be little more than her mind playing tricks on her again...when she saw her. Rubbing the grogginess out of her eyes. Yawning. Still dressed in her light under-armor that was now slightly undone, red hair standing on end from her sleep. She was briefly surprised to see the elf standing there, but otherwise seemed completely nonchalant.

"Aeyra?" She yawned. "Did I wake you?"

"I..." She said in response, seeming lost for words. "I...no. You're..."

She giggled drowsily, approaching her and giving her a tender kiss. "I think you're still half-asleep, love."

"I had a dream." Aerya muttered, staring into her lover's blue orbs with an expression that spoke of relief, longing, and affection all at once.

Leliana rose an eyebrow. "I thought those stopped."

"Not...not a Warden one. Not really." She shook her head. "I...thought you were gone."

"I'm not going anywhere, you know that." She took her by the hands, and guided her back into the tent. They settled down on the furs again, Aerya resting her head on Leliana's lap and smiled, urging her to continue. She stroked hair out of her face affectionately as she stared up at her with her big, green eyes.

"I was there again." She sighed, never taking her eyes off of her. "The west, the road...for five years, I was alone. I always liked to tell myself I enjoyed solitude, but...that wasn't solitude, that was just...that was something else entirely." She closed her eyes, shaking her head with pain etched on her face.

Leliana slowly stroked her face, smiling. "You're never going to be alone again."

Aerya furrowed her brow. "_Five years_. Five, long years of not hearing you, feeling you. Speaking to _anyone_." She sighed. "I shouldn't have gone alone. I shouldn't have made you lie for my stubbornness. I...I was an idiot."

Leliana took her hand in her own, lifting it up to her face. "That's over now. I'm here for you. Forever, and always."

Aerya smiled slightly. "Promise me."

Leliana rested her lover's head down on the bedroll after lifting her from her lap, before bending down and kissing her. Long, passionately, and comfortingly.

"I promise." She purred with a wry grin. "You are the most precious thing in my life. You are what I see each morning, what I close my eyes to each night. You are the one light that guided me when all others went dim, steadfast, never wavering for a moment. I love you, _so much._ You lit my path through darkness, and I will _always_ follow you. To whatever end._"_

"Hmm, now who's dramatic?" Aerya cooed, smiling fully now, before sighing again. "What did I do to deserve you, ma vhenan?"

"I used to ask myself that of you, you know." Leliana replied softly. "There I was. Nobody. A forgotten lay sister, hiding away from her past and jumping at the first opportunity to just feel _alive_ again. Sometimes I thought myself worthless. A liar, a murderer, a sinner hiding among the faithful. A pretender."

She trailed a finger down Aerya's chest, gently curving them over her breasts before stopping at her navel.

"I felt drawn to you ever since I first laid eyes upon you. You were so cold sometimes, but I knew you were like me, in a way." Leliana continued. "It was unlike anything I had ever felt before. The way you stood by me when you found out what I was, even when you had no reason to trust me. The way you were there to protect me from Marjolaine. The way you were always there for me, when I felt myself faltering. When we first made love..."

Her face was mere inches from her own now, leaning in ever-closer.

"You showed me I was something. You showed me faith, in myself and otherwise, when I had none. I knew what I'd known all along, right then - I love you. Fate, the Maker, Creators, whoever - they brought us together. I am yours, you are mine - as it was meant to be."

With that, she straddled the elf's waist as she descended lower, planting warm affection on her jaw and neck while her hands wandered. The elf rocked up with her waist, wrapping her legs around her lower back and desperately pulling her down for more as her chest heaved. The redhead smirked as she continued to trail down, sliding her hands underneath the thin undershirt Aerya was wearing, slowly and tantalizingly sliding it up until it was off, trailing kisses as she went.

A few heartbeats later, Aerya came to the conclusion this was most certainly_ not_ a dream.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Two weeks later...<strong>_

Aerya could never help but get flashbacks whenever she walked through the Denerim gates. Looking at it now, one would hardly believe these very walls were nearly torn down by besieging darkspawn just eleven years ago. Even as she plodded through the gates, guardsmen and commoners alike looking on in awe as they saw who she was, Leliana's arms wrapped around her waist as they rode in through the rustic, dog-embroidered gates...she could see the fire. The blackened sky, the suffocating smog creeping into her lungs. She remembered raising her sword above her head and charging into the fray with Riordan, the assembled armies at their heels as she beheaded a genlock and slowly but surely cut her way through to the gates. She remembered the sweat on her brow, the fire in her chest. Sometimes she still heard the screams as hurlocks slaughtered the innocent men and women inside, or as ogres battered down their futile shelters. The disorienting song that signified the Archdemon's approach.

There were children in the city now who hadn't even been conceived yet during the Blight. They ran around the streets as she passed, darting and weaving in front of her horse and screaming in joy as she rode by. They'd never seen death on that scale. Only heard tales of the triumph over it. The adults looked on as she past, reverent but silent. _They_ had seen those days. They'd lived them. But they'd sooner forget them.

The whole line of thought made Aerya feel strangely old. Here she was, a mere thirty-four years of age, feeling like the weariest fossil in Ferelden. A relic, one who belonged more in a storybook than on a horse in the midst of the market square. She found herself smiling only distantly at the awe-struck citizens as she passed.

Leliana and her stopped at the Gnawed Noble tavern briefly; it had been knocked down and burned by darkspawn during the very first wave of the siege, but was among the first things rebuilt. People had to forget _somewhere._ They filed into a backroom, Aerya silently letting Leliana fit her into a dress she had picked out ages ago; an elegant, long flow of gold-embroidered emerald, hanging below the shoulders, which Leliana seemed to think brought out her eyes beautifully. She rarely ever wore dresses, usually trying to avoid them at all costs even on formal occasions, but Leliana had insisted on appearances for her long-awaited return. As was her way. So despite herself, she couldn't help but smile as Leliana struggled with her lover's recently trimmed brownish blonde-locks - before she turned to help Leliana peel off her travelling leathers, wash, and don her own gown of sparkling velvet.

After about an hour or so, they emerged back into the street and made their way to the palace district, gingerly making their way up the steps towards the large royal building - clearly the most lavish structure in the capital, but just like most things Fereldan, rustic and dull compared to the shining, gold-plated architecture of Val Royeaux. A group of Ferelden royal guard greeted the two of them as they approached the massive carved double-doors, marching in formation. They almost seemed like a squadron preparing to attack, until the whole front row of them bowed low.

"My Lady Mahariel," The lead one said, his voice thick with reverence. "The whole of Ferelden rejoices that you are not truly lost to us."

She nodded respectfully.

"Allow us to escort you, my lady. We've been told to await your arrival."

They followed behind the row of guards as they pushed open the doors, marching through the short hallway and into the throne room. She heard chatter and revelry echoing faintly through the doors, and was greeted by half the bannorn scattered all across the room, drinking and toasting. A few of them turned as Aerya and Leliana filed into the room, not recognizing her for a moment...before their eyes went wide. She saw Arl Teagan's face light up amidst the crowd as he caught sight of her, swiftly budging his way through the sea of stunned onlookers and approaching her. He looked older than she remembered; his beard grown out slightly, flecks of grey scattered across it, signs of stress evident on his features - but he seemed familiarly pleased to see her all the same.

"Aerya, thank the Maker you're alright." He exclaimed, sincere relief in his voice. He gently took her right hand in his, planting a swift kiss on her ring finger as Aerya smiled warmly.

"Oh, come here." She laughed, pulling her old friend in for a hug. "It's been long enough, I think we're past formalities."

"As you say, my lady." He chuckled, smiling as they pushed away. "Might I say, you look..radiant. As do you, Lady Nightingale."

"Leliana." The redhead said with a warm smile. "Just go with Leliana."

"Good to see you've, er, let your hair down then, so to speak." Teagan said, planting a kiss on Leliana's finger as well. "You were so...formal, when I heard from you through the Inquisition."

"A necessity, I'm afraid." Leliana shrugged. "That's over and done with now, to my great relief."

"Good to know." Teagan replied, rubbing his neck. "Alistair was afraid he was going to get on your bad side somehow. Now, speaking of that..."

Another swirl of chatter joined the already constant one emanating from the throne room in wake of her arrival, as the doors at the end of the hall swung open. Alistair filed out, the regal, fur-lined brown coat he usually wore trailing behind him, and the crown of silver and antlers resting gently on top of his brow. Smiling, she nodded to Teagan, and delicately made her way across the hall, her emerald gown trailing behind her. He caught sight of her almost immediately - she imagined she stood out, a Dalish elf, face covered in tattoos, but dressed in the finest silks straight from Orlais. Some comparisons could likely be drawn to a hyena wearing a frock.

The assembled lords and ladies throughout the chamber bowed low as their king entered, but Aerya just smirked as he approached, his arms wide.

"Thank the Maker you're alright." He breathed, sighing in relief as she walked into his outstretched arms.

"It's good to see you too, my oldest friend." She smiled, teetering slightly as they embraced. After a moment, they pushed away, grinning widely.

"You had us all worried," Alistair said, in a exaggerated scolding tone. "I'm surprised the kingdom didn't go up in flames! Get taken over by dastardly Orlesians! Maybe almost get blown to smithereens by a crazed magister from a thousand years ago - oh, wait, it almost did. Ooops."

Aerya chuckled, but looked away, her eyes betraying a brief flash of regret. "I...sorry. I wish I was there to help."

"Oh, don't worry." He chuckled, beckoning for her to follow as he turned. Aerya, Leliana and Alistair made their way up the stairs leading into one of the elevated balconies of the throne room, seating themselves at a worn-looking table out of earshot from the rest of the room. "The assassination attempts, explosions and time warps were entertaining, in a weird sort of way. Reminds me of old times."

Aerya laughed dryly, shaking her head. "You remember old times differently than I do. They seemed simple in comparison."

"Suppose they did." Alistair agreed, shrugging. "Still, more exciting than_ king stuff_, I'll tell you that much."

"I suppose I should apologize on the behalf of the Inquisition for settling in your country without your say-so," Leliana chimed in, smiling. "And for getting a chunk of your map destroyed."

"Ah. You made up for it. Should be thanking you actually. Never got the chance." He sighed, letting go of the sarcasm for a moment. "It's good to see you too, Leliana. Both of you. I'm glad you found your way back to each other, in wake of all this."

She nodded, as Aerya ducked her head away, once again fighting back a regretful flash of uncertainty.

Alistair actually seemed to catch on to that one. "So...where were you? For five years...we looked for as long as we could, but when Leliana had nothing to tell us..." He glanced at her solemnly as he spoke. "We..._assumed_..."

"I...I had my Calling, Alistair." She sighed.

Alistair's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "So soon? But...you're not...?"

"_Thirty years, give or take._ I guess I got a faulty glass of blood." She said dryly.

"Are you...alright?" Alistair asked cautiously, concerned and confused. "I heard about what was going on with the Wardens, since...well, I still hear things, but...this was before that. Years before that"

"I sought out Avernus." She began.

"Uh oh." Alistair interjected.

"He had ideas. Better ideas than his other ones." Aerya continued, a smile creeping up on the corners of her lips ever so slightly. "He figured out how to _cure it,_ Alistair. The taint." Her face started lighting up as she said so, excitedly. Alistair still seemed to be wrapping his head around this all.

"Cure...the taint?"

Aerya nodded. "For five years, I was far to the west, looking for answers. _And I found them."_

Alistair's brown eyes bore into hers for a long moment, disbelievingly. "Then...you're..."

"Free." Aerya exclaimed with a smile, curling her hand into Leliana's. "Free from _all of it._"

"I'm...not sure what to say to that." Alistair fumbled, still seeming completely taken off-guard.

"I'll tell you more, in detail, soon." She promised. "Think about it. You could be rid of it too. Everything binding you to that life, that death, could be gone. Maybe you could even have an heir, finally."

Alistair grunted. "Anora will be_ thrilled_ to hear that, I'm sure." He smiled, despite himself, as he only just wrapped his head around the implications of it all. "Have...have you told the other Wardens?"

Aerya's expression darkened slightly, her hopeful expression replaced by one of uncertainty. "I...meant to ask you. Has there been _any_ word from Vigil's Keep?"

"Not a peep." Alistair sighed. "Your dwarf friend, Sigrun, was here shortly after you disappeared, looking all over for you. Haven't heard from them for...a concerning amount of time."

Aerya closed her eyes, sighing deeply in disappointment. "Creators, please let them be alright. All of them."

Leliana squeezed her hand. "I could ask the Inquisition to look into them. I'm sure they still owe me favors."

The elf nodded in agreement. "That...that would be best."

They sat in silence for a moment, Alistair looking away solemnly as Aerya stared at her hands, pondering. She'd always feared this would happen, as soon as Leliana's letter had informed her of the Warden situation back east. That something would happen to her friends while she was gone, because she was too stubborn to even have the courtesy of informing them where she was. If something had happened to them, if they were gone or worse...it would be on her head. They could have gone with her, and never gotten dragged into this mess in the first place if she'd just _told someone._

"I'm sorry." She sighed. Alistair glanced at her, as Leliana squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I...decided not to tell anyone before I left. I told Leliana, made her promise not to speak...and that was a mistake. One that I'm going to regret for the rest of my life."

Where she expected a look of betrayal, Alistair simply responded with a slow, grave nod. He glanced at Leliana. "I suspected there was something you weren't telling me - and I figured it was painful, so...I didn't ask further." He sighed, shaking his head. "It was painful for me, too. You know. You never quite fit in with the court here, neither of us did, but...it was empty without you."

She looked up at him, her green eyes full of pain. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. You always kept to yourself." He sighed. "Wish I could do that, sometimes. I miss when things were _simple_, you know?"

Both Aerya and Leliana nodded in agreement.

"I mean, the Blight was bad and all, but..." Alistair shrugged. "It was nice being a little bit _younger._ More naive. Crap, now I feel old."

"You're the one to talk." Leliana giggled. "You're younger than we are, in case you forgot. Now you're making us feel _very_ old."

Alistair let out a bittersweet chuckle. "Thirty-one going on seventy-one, I'm afraid."

They sat there for quite a while, chatting well into the evening. Despite the new weight set upon her mind, she found herself laughing and smiling more than she thought she would as they recalled tales of their old mischief, recent endeavors, and generally reflected on the 'good old days.'

It felt good to be back.

* * *

><p>Hours later, the palace quieted down substantially as the evening shifted to night. A handful of banns still remained in the throne room, the occasional burst of inebriated laughter echoing through the halls, but most had called it in and retreated to their chambers. Leliana and Aerya included. The elf now leaned on the balcony of the spacious, perfectly swept and furnished room they were told was prepared specifically for their arrival. The night-time wind swept through her hair as she looked out over the rapidly-quieting city, watching as lights flickered out in windows as candles were extinguished, people filed back into their homes, and as the whole of Denerim was swept over by an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional dog barking. The sound echoed across the entire cityscape, making it impossible to determine where it was even coming from. She flipped through a couple of letters half-heartedly - correspondence that had been meant for her while she was gone. Some dated five years ago, with wax seals indicating being sent from anywhere between Gwaren and the Anderfels.<p>

She heard Leliana approach, squeezing up beside her and wrapping their hands together. Aerya smiled, leaning her head on her redheaded lover's shoulder with a contented sigh.

"Hey." She said simply.

"Well." The former bard began softly, after a moment. "What's next?"

"A lot of reading, for one." Aerya sighed, flipping through the plethora of envelopes. She slid one out of its seal gingerly, the pages yellowed from age. "Then...then I suppose we'll see."

Leliana planted a kiss on her cheek warmly. "You think you missed anything important?"

"Not really." She shrugged. "I'm not commander, or arlessa of _anything _anymore. But...maybe there's something of interest in here. From _someone_ of interest."

"Your Wardens." Leliana whispered sadly. "We'll find them. I promise."

The elf sighed, not seeming quite reassured, but squeezed her hand affectionately all the same. "I love you. No matter what happens...at least I have that."

"I love you too." Leliana whispered, before pulling her in for a kiss. She slid her hands around her waist as she pulled her lover closer, Aerya wrapping the arm not clutching the letters around Leliana's upper back and pulling their bodies together, as close as physically possible. They stood there for a few minutes straight, embracing each other with their lips tenderly caressing, the stars shining above them. Regretfully, they eventually loosened their grips and let go of each other.

"Now." Aerya breathed, planting one last chaste kiss on her cheek. "I better go get a candle."

"Do you have to do that _now?_" Leliana cooed, an impish grin on her face as she offered her raised hands to her. Aerya looked at them, and back up at her lover's blue eyes, questioningly.

"Ummm..."

"A dance?" She giggled playfully. "For old time's sake?"

Aerya hesitated, glaring at her with a look of mock distrust, before smiling and delicately grabbing onto Leliana's soft hands.

"I'm warning you, I haven't gotten any better." She whispered, as Leliana pulled her close, their faces nearly coming together once again. "Didn't have anyone to practice with all those years."

"Improvise. You're good at that."

Aerya smiled, as she pushed the pile of letters onto the bedside table with one hand. Anything else...the rest of the world could wait. Here, as they swayed and twirled back and forth, their blissful laughter echoing across the entire wing...Leliana had presented her with a _much_ more enticing way to spend the rest of her night.

It was something her lover had always been quite proficient at.

* * *

><p><strong><em>As usual, huge thanks for reading, following along, and reviewing, everyone. It means a lot. I hope my elongated, glorified drabbles I wanted to get off my mind post-DA:I were of enjoyment to you all.<em>**

**_Stay tuned. Perhaps I'll start something new, sooner or later. I like to leave a few hooks open after all. _**

**_Have a great day/night/whenever, everyone. :)_**


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